#but like…….. the whole point of. walking someone down the aisle is that youre giving them away so like what if—

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Tough Day

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> You and Aaron have known each other a long time, and in that time you have looked after him. Now it's his turn to look after you.

Disclaimer: I'm on a CM re-watch and wanted to write something for Hotch. Mentions of being injured in a case, bullet wounds, blood. Moments of fluff. Not proof read.

You and Aaron had known each other…a long time. You hadn’t been in the academy together or anything, but you had just…known each other. It started out that you just so happened to live down the street from him. Or, so you both found out when you seemed to run into each other for a few weeks, recognising each other’s faces but never quite plucking up the courage to ask where you knew each other from. 

Turned out, it was from work. 

Despite Aaron working as Unit Chief of the BAU, you worked just a few floors above him as a part of the Organised Crime Unit. 

Every day, you’d both get in around the same time, ride the same elevator and do the same when going home. 

Eventually, it led to a conversation. About the local grocery store which had shut down early for the night. You and Aaron had both seen each other in the aisle of that same grocery store after work a couple times a week. And considering you knew the owner, you gave him a word of warning. 

After that…conversations became casual. 

Then you worked on a case together. 

The only member of the team you had met, properly, before was JJ. You both talked about the cases your teams could take on. You had the privilege of conversing with Penelope Garcia a few times but despite working in the same building, you never seemed to run into her. 

It was JJ’s assurance that she was real that made you believe so. 

And it was after that case yourself and Hotch made a sort of friendship. From working, to riding the elevator to going home. 

When the power went down on your block, Hotch was the first person to knock on your door to make sure you were okay. Yet, despite him being the profiler, you could read his underlying fear a mile away. 

He had paperwork, cases, people – all that needed to be looked after. 

So you helped him. 

You helped him with the paperwork, mostly. But the way he talked about the cases had you wishing you’d thought twice about doing the profiler classes. 

He made it seem so interesting. Compared to the speech you were given by your old professor in college, Hotch made behaviour profiling seem like one of the most interesting jobs in the world. Except for the working hours. But you could help with that, slightly. 

And over the next couple of years, yours and Aaron’s friendship grew to the point where the whole team knew who you were, and when you couldn’t be found in or around Hotch’s office during his lunch break, something was up. 

Everyday, you brought him lunch. 

You had a habit of making too much food the night before, meaning it either got left in your freezer until past its frozen date or you got sick of it, you either had to find someone to give it to or simply throw it out. 

And considering you knew Aaron spent most of his lunch break working. It gave you the perfect excuse to visit him, make sure he was okay, and take a break from your work whilst also making sure he took a break from his. 

You did a lot of things like that, Aaron noticed. 

How you made sure the people around you were looked after. To you, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. So? You made a little extra, so what? 

But he also noticed the way you made sure everyone around you was okay. If they needed a break from work, you’d get them a coffee from the machine and tell them to do so. To talk, walk, or go and read a book for fifteen minutes. 

You kept your hands over Penelope’s eyes on difficult cases. 

You knew, just from a text alone, that it was a difficult case for Hotch. So, it was never a surprise when, on those occasions, you could be seen in the back of a video call with Penelope discussing a case. 

Hotch didn’t know it right away, but after he stepped foot inside your home, seeing the way the blankets were folded on the plane let him know not only had they been washed – they smelled like you, in a comforting way – but you had folded them and placed them in the best places to sleep. 

He also spotted other, slightly smaller gestures you made to his team, and your own. 

Like the way you made sure certain members of your team, if they had a temporary fear after a particularly harrowing case, could sit where they would best be comfortable. Your eyes were always scanning a room and the minute something seemed to be wrong, it was like a sixth sense and you shot up out of your chair and moved in between the thing that was bothering whoever needed protecting. 

You’d put yourself on the firing line so many times, and each time it was as if nothing had ever happened. Of course, it shook you. It would shake anyone. However, whenever someone asked if you were okay, you would answer the same. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” or “I’m good. Why?”. 

To everyone else, despite how weird it was for them to hear those words – that you were okay – after such incidents, confused them. But eventually…it became accepted. No-one saw anything wrong with your reaction. They never followed up on the question. Every evaluator signed you off into field work pretty quickly, mostly down to your response. 

It was almost like a knee jerk reaction. 

However, by having the Unit Chief profiler as your friend, that meant eventually your knee jerk reaction was made to a brick wall. 

“If there is ever a day where you’re not, please come to me.”

“I’ll be fine, Aaron. I promise.”

Aaron took you by the arm lightly. “I mean it. The other’s might accept it – and I will, for now. But, if there is ever a day…please come to me.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Hotch. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re busy enough taking care of everybody else.”

You smiled at him. “I promise you. I’m okay.”

And you were, for a while. 

It was late in the evening. Far past office hours for Hotch to still be working. Except, he still was. Until something shifted. He didn’t know what, and he didn’t know why. But something shifted. 

And when he turned his gaze to outside his office, down to the dimly-lit bullpen, he saw it. 

He hadn’t seen you for a while. You’d make up small but forgivable excuses about lunch. If he saw you in the grocery store, you were just leaving as he was arriving. In the morning’s you were either in your office an hour early, or an hour late. 

On the late nights and early, early mornings Hotch would arrive home from a case, he saw your lights were still on inside your home. For a while, he thought you had just fallen asleep down stairs. Until he saw small movements from behind the curtains. You were still awake. 

One afternoon, Hotch had texted you. “Are you okay?”

But your reply was…happy. 

It was easy to hide behind a text message that didn’t require a facial expression to prove otherwise. 

So, out of hours, he asked Garcia to check on your file. You wouldn’t tell him yourself and a conversation with both JJ and one of your teammates had explained to him what had happened, it a roundabout way. 

From over Garcia’s shoulders, Hotch quickly read the case report. 

You’d been injured. Badly. You had insisted you were fine, but when the paramedic checked you over, you were taken straight to the hospital. 

From there, the doctors performed a surgery to ensure all pieces of the bullets were removed from your body. 

Your evaluation later meant you were out of the field for a while, however could still consult on certain cases from the office. 

It also said in your file that you had been transferred…from organised crime to violent crimes. Six months prior to your accident. Which meant you had been working on his floor for six months, undetected. 

It also meant you had been avoiding him…more. 

Until the moment when Hotch saw you, because you wanted him to see you. 

Stepping out of his office, the closer he got towards you, made you slow your own steps down. 

For a few moments, it was silent. Not a word was passed between either of you. You looked…tired. Exhausted, even. Your skin was a little duller around your cheeks rather than brighter and happier from your smiles. Your usually polished nails were bitten. The skin around the tips were slightly redder than usual. 

And your eyes. 

Your eyes spoke a thousand words your mouth could not. 

“I-I don’t know what to do.” Your voice broke as you spoke, looking at Aaron with a slight shrug. It was taking everything you had left in you to come to him. You didn’t know what for or what he could do, but you just…felt you had to. 

He was the one you trusted the most. 

You felt tears prick your eyes but just before the first tear fell, Aaron was striding towards you before wrapping you in his arms, with one hand cradling the back of your head. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything.”

Hotch felt your arms come up to his back, hugging him. All the while, your tears soaked into his shirt. 

He had an idea of the amount of strength it took for you to come to him. 

You had always been so stable. So constant. Sometimes he even wondered if you were human. But this was more than enough proof. 

That same night, Hotch drove you home. 

You hadn’t been sleeping. He knew that much. But by the look of your home, the place you had spent most of your time was your living room. Everywhere was tidy, except your bedroom. That was too tidy. It looked like it hadn’t been slept in, in months. Dust was gathering on top of your book on your bedside table. There were no creases, at all on your bed. 

He waited for you to take a shower and by the time you got out, towel drying your hair, your bedroom seemed fresher. And from the kitchen you could smell pasta and sauce. 

Aaron was cooking. 

You had spent most of your life looking out for the people who surrounded you. But now, he was going to look after you. 

And he did. 

That night, he stayed by your side. You had fallen asleep to the sounds of Gene Kelly laughing at whatever Donald O’Connor was singing as he stood up on a piano. And Hotch stayed by your side the entire night. 

He knew you hadn’t been sleeping. Something you confirmed after your tears had run, almost, dry back at the office. 

Part of him was worried if he made a single movement, you’d wake up and not get back to sleep. And he didn’t want that. But another part of him wanted to stay because he knew it was what you would do, if the shoe was on the other foot. You deserved to have that. To have someone to stay with you. Stay for you. Because they wanted to. 

And he wanted to. 

He wanted to make sure you were okay. That you could relax when you woke up and not panic. 

But it didn’t just stop there. 

Hotch would find ways to help you, too. Just like you had with him. He came to you every lunch break to check in on you. And when he couldn’t, he made sure Garcia did. 

When a couple of your cases overlapped, he made sure to stay by your side. You could put up a front for everyone else, but not for him. That wasn’t how your friendship worked. If he had to be honest with you, you had to be honest with him. No matter how much it would hurt. 

Whenever you’d go over a case together, and Hotch would spot your hand shaking, his own found yours. 

Taking yours in a firm grip, he stood just a little bit closer to you allowing you to lean on him. 

When you felt like you needed some space from…everything, Hotch made sure a seat was left for you in a corner where you could see everyone and everything without having to come into much contact with people. 

And when you needed to sleep after a case, he was there to lend a shoulder for you to lean on. 

They were smaller gestures, but they meant a whole lot to you nonetheless. 

But Hotch’s worst fear for you came true when on a case in Ohio. 

You were alone with an unsub, in a situation not unlike the one you had been in that had led you to be honest with him in the bullpen that evening. 

Your phone had gone dead whilst mid-conversation with him over what you could see in the house you were investigating whilst Morgan had just stepped into the second living room which somehow shut him out of the rest of the house. 

Hotch and the rest of the team rushed to your location as soon as possible and all he could hope was that you would be safe enough until he got there. 

Only when they finally pulled up outside of the home, Hotch’s vehicle was one of the last to arrive. This meant he was Morgan coming out of the house with the unsub in cuffs, but it also meant he saw you. 

And it felt like everything slowed down. 

You seemed a little off in your own world before you spotted him and when you did, you paused before running towards him, throwing your arms over his shoulders, repeating the words; “I’m okay. I’m fine. I promise I’m okay.” to him.

Maybe it was the truth, or rather, part of it. But it was also in an attempt to convince yourself that you were. 

Aaron pulled back for a moment before checking you over. 

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” He repeated, touching his thumb softly to your head. 

“I’m okay.”

“We’re getting you looked at.”

“Hotch, I’m fine. I promise.”

“Bullshit. You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine-”

“You’re not fine. You’re-”

“Aaron!” You seemed to come back to reality for a moment, before bringing your hand to touch his face and make him look you in the eye. “I’m okay. I-I’ll be okay.”

Aaron nodded after a moment. 

“But you’re still seeing a medic.”

[comfymoth]

ssorry i just. thought about jaiden taking roier dress shopping and now i’m in tears i have so many wishful thoughts about them i really just need to see them interact before the wedding or i’ll die i think

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[wonryllis]

さ 𝇃𝇂 ENHYPEN WHEN THEY GET JEALOUS OVER A GUY HITTING ON YOU.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. the trigger of possesive enhypen 𖥔 ݁ fluff and love, and your man, LIBY? fem!reader requested word count ` 1513 unedited.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 you're at the mall to watch a marvel movie together all excited. and there's this boba store right next door to the cinema hall, they have your favorite flavour but there's a long ass line. heeseung baby being down bad for you is rushing to get you what you want without a thought. even if he has to miss the grand opening scenes, he's getting you that boba you love. he's literally right next up when he notices this weirdo approach you. quickly gets your drink and runs back, more like long intimidating strides with a deep ass scary voice,"babe, who's this guy?"

immediately notices the dial pad open on his phone understanding that this frog was asking for your number. does a whole public display of affection, putting in the straw, holding the cup while you take a sip, squeezing your cheeks and going,"does my sweetcheeks like it?" leaving a kiss when you nod. "m sorry do you like need directions or something?" he's so jealous right now that this guy thinks he can bag you, and he's gonna take it out by embarrassing him. what to do you're so beautiful that flies keep getting attracted, he's found a tactic for this.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 okay now this one is the wooing stage where you're seeing each other every other day but do not have a strict label yet, more like jay trying to do all it takes to win your heart. with the gentleman he is definitely it doesn't take him long but there are times when he's not so gentlemanly though not to you, you'll forever be his queen. it's friday night and he shows up at your doorstep unannounced waiting for you to get back home to surprise you with a bag of your favourite takeout. he's just steps away from your apartment door when he notices the bouquet of flowers stuck on the door with a small bag hanging beneath.

immediately searches through it to find a note with a number. types it in and makes a call giving the guy a really good piece of his mind to stay away, throwing away the flowers and the gift in the bins downstairs. and then he spots you talking to some guy? okay now he doesn't know if it's the same one or someone else so doing what would be graciously the best he walks over and pretends to be your boyfriend,"hey honeybun, i was waiting for you upstairs with this," showing the bag of food triumphantly and and then giving a sly look over to the guy.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 so you're in ikea looking for a new bed for jake because y'all broke the last one while pillow fighting on it. cliche but you get lost amidst the aisles and jake is roaming around tryna find you first whereas you are least concerned about being separated like you'll reunite at some point anyway? right? however just two meters away from your boyfriend and some dude is walking right up in between, hand scratching the back of his neck just like how jake used to do early on in the relationship.

literally as awkward as it can be, the guy going on about how he's been looking at you for a while and how he'd like to get to know you, while your eyes are trained behind him at jake who in turn is shooting daggers at the guy. you don't know what to say hoping jake would come over but he's too busy feeling the jealousy lol, "my man wouldn't like that and neither would i so plea-" "oh come on he's not here is he-" "ayo sorry to disappoint buddy, but her man's right here," at first jake was super jealous like feeling the need to claim dominance but lord the moment you referred to him as 'your man' he's forgotten all about it.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 you were meeting up for a lunch date at your favourite place. and as always hoon was running a little late, leaving you waiting outside the restaurant. you're just on a bench nearby texting on your phone, when you feel someone sit beside you. you smile, thinking it's your lovely boyfriend but when you look up you find an unfamiliar guy grinning his tooth out at you? "hey i was watching you and you seem to be alone," oh no you already feel it going bad "uh no, im not alon-" "i was wondering if you could give me your number, i'm fun to be around really," he keeps on interrupting you again and again when you try to tell him you're not interested and taken.

"my pretty girl, let's go," sunghoon shows up, taking your hand into his and leading you away into the restaurant, straight up ignoring the guy. internally he's quite literally fuming his fists iching to throw a punch at the guy who thought it was okay to hit on you like that. he excuses himself to the washroom after placing the order to secretly check if the guy is still lingering around and if he is then god save him from sunghoon's wrath lmao.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 you're in the mall,. shopping together, going around stores and trying on clothes. you find these bunch of cute floral print mini dresses and sunoo so encourages you to give it a try and see if you like it, promising to stay close by the fitting rooms to have a look and give feedback. however when you open the door for the third outfit instead of your darling there's a staff waiting around. he's immediately jumping at the opportunity to compliment how your body looks so good in it and how you rocked the previous dresses too. "uhm yeah thank you, but the man here-"

"babyyy, im so sorry i went to look some more for you and look what i found, you'd look so damn pretty in it all for me to see," sunoo walks over with a lingerie in his hand ksjskjskhhsj, he hands it over to you with a lovely smile on his face but as soon as you close the door, he's so giving it to the guy for trying to hit on you, "don't you think it is inappropriate to be saying all that to someone who clearly is not looking for and does not absolutely want your advice? and you're at work don't you have basic employee customer decency, where's your manager, i wanna speak to them,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 this guy is always on his toes to pick you up from anywhere and everywhere. this time it was the library you frequent. it was late in the evening and it was raining, the perfect scenario for jungwon to be a knight in shining armour. by the time he's reached, you're supposed to be waiting by the door as your texts said but you're nowhere to be found. baby is confused, doesn't waste a second to go inside in search of you. and he's so glad he did because the first thing he sees is you uncomfortably standing by the front desk seemingly talking to the librarian guy.

the same one whom he has always noticed giving you the ogly googly eyes whenever he's been here with you. however won never thought of doing anything about it because it never went beyond just lovey dovey stares. until today that is,"excuse me i don't think you know but this gorgeous lady right here is in a committed relationship and we'll appreciate it if you stop with these inappropriate advances, it's really disrespectful to us both," damn that guy he got the message so clearly he ain't looking your way ever again,"let's go baby," jungwon is so coddling you after.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 boy doesn't show a lot of his emotions especially in public. his best response to jealousy so far has been to stay quiet at the moment and then later on try to do more pda and all to show you're taken. this time it was valentines week and everyone at college was going around gifting chocolates and roses and other cutesy gifts. of course riki planned out a whole romantic date with your favourite flowers and sweets and everything thing you love. also he had this plan on that random people would come over to give you roses on his behalf and the last one will be him.

however it takes a twist when the random guy with the rose doesn't just leave after handing it to you, he's asking for your damn number man, riki gets so pissed, ready to throw hands more frustrated- jealous than ever especially that his secret plan is getting ruined, also he's like right beside you? "shut up, take this shit back and know your place!" he literally snatches the rose from the small bundle you hold and shoves it roughly into the guy before taking you away,"im so sorry baby for getting angry, i promise this won't happen again everyone will know you're mine,"

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia

[scuderiahoney]

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 8

summary: end of semester celebrations, graduation shenanigans, and the final family dinner of the year. 7.5k words

warnings: alcohol, mild suggestive content, graduation :( , one mention of hypothetical murder for hire

Oscar’s expecting an interrogation the second he steps onto the bus, which is exactly why he sits himself down next to Alex. Alex, seemingly not expecting this, blinks widely at him, half a croissant hanging from his mouth. Oscar smiles.

“That’s my seat,” George says, nudging Oscar’s shoulder from the aisle.

Oscar gives him his best sheepish look. “Sorry, there weren’t many seats left, so I just… sat down.”

Alex elbows him. “There’s two seats right there!”

Oscar looks a few rows back and winces. Since when do Max and Lando not sit next to each other on the bus? It’s usually the two of them, Charles and Carlos in the seats in front of them. This is definitely on purpose. He swallows tightly and turns to George.

“Please,” he says, laying on the pouting thick. “Just this once?”

George looks back a few rows and laughs. “Gotta get it over with at some point, mate.”

Oscar rolls his eyes at his teammate and slips out of the seat. George and Alex laugh as he walks away. He trudges back towards Max and Lando and the empty seats, wishing someone would just take pity on him.

Lando grins brightly and pats the seat next to him. “Osc! Saved you a seat!”

George is probably right. It’ll be better to get it over with, anyways.

They let him sweat for a while. The whole bus ride to the airport, the walk through security, the wait to get in the plane- the conversation never strays from the game or hockey or classes. Neither of them bring you up. Oscar’s pretty sure they’re lulling him into a false sense of security.

It’s only when he’s on the plane, somehow stuck between the two of them, that it finally happens. The plane is halfway through liftoff, and Max turns to him, closing the window shade, a sly smile on his face, and Oscar just knows.

“So, Oscar,” Max says, and Oscar can already feel the tips of his ears going red. “What are your intentions with Bunny?”

In the row behind them, Charles and Carlos are giggling. Oscar slumps down in his seat. This is going to be the longest flight of his life.

…..

You worry about Oscar the whole morning after you drop them off, and the whole journey home. You get to have your own interrogation on the plane, courtesy of Lily, though you’re sure it’s not as intense as Oscar’s dealing with. Lily just wants to know when it happened, and if he’s treating you well, and when you knew you liked him, and if it’s nice to have everyone know now, and-

“How’s the sex?” She asks, whispered, and you choke on your ginger ale.

“Lily!” You hiss, eyes darting around the cabin. “We’re in public!”

The two of you burst into laughter, and you nearly knock over your drink. Luckily, the disruption of it seems to move Lily away from the subject, and eventually, your face stops feeling so hot. That is, until you get off the plane and head for the parking lot.

Logan had volunteered to pick both of you up, and you spot his car easily. Not only because it’s recognizable, but because of the two figures leaning against the side of it- Alex and Oscar, waiting with eager smiles. Lily grins and nudges your side.

“He survived,” she says. “And they let him pick you up. That’s a good sign, huh?”

You nod, and when you’re within arms reach you’re happy to let him wrap you up in a tight hug. You can feel the way he presses his face against the top of your head and takes a deep breath. You’re not sure you should admit how much you missed him- you might sound crazy. You’d seen him hours ago. But really, the past few weeks have been so hectic that this feels like finally coming home.

“How bad was it?” You ask, squished next to him in the backseat. Lily’s on your other side, while Alex took shotgun and is yapping away at Logan.

“Well, they haven’t contracted Carlos to murder me yet, I don’t think, so, overall I’d call it a success,” he says, shrugging. “It wasn’t that bad, really. They just care about you a lot.”

You nod in understanding and lean into him. “Well. I’m just glad I got you back in one piece.”

The drama comes when Logan pulls up in front of your apartment building, and both you and Oscar climb out. The freshman leans out his window, brows furrowed.

“I’ve got strict instructions,” he says, voice timid, “to drop you off here and bring Oscar back to the house. Team meeting.”

You groan and roll your eyes, fighting the urge to stomp your foot. “Team meeting, right after the championship? Let me guess, captain’s orders?”

Logan shrugs. You know why Max is doing this- he’s trying to keep Oscar from staying at your place. It’s stupid. He and Lando are already starting to get on your nerves.

“We’re adults, Logan,” you grumble, shaking your head. “They are not my brothers, let alone my parents, and-“

“Hey, it’s okay,” Oscar says, and you whip your head to look at him, eyes wide. He shoots you a wink, and you try and figure out where he’s going with this. “Just let me help carry up her luggage, and then I’ll come back down. It’d be rude if I didn’t.”

And Logan, all southern American charm and a gentleman at heart, shrugs and nods. “Yeah. Good point.”

“Perfect,” Oscar says, hauling your suitcase out of the trunk of the car.

You swing your backpack over your shoulder and swipe to open the front door. Oscar steps inside, and you follow him in a hurry. In the passenger seat and backseat of the car, Lily and Alex are already laughing.

“You’re not leaving, right?” You ask, turning to Oscar.

He gives you a bewildered look. “Are you kidding? I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

He kisses you in the elevator on the way up to your apartment, National Championship hat turned backwards on his head, his hands on your hips. When the doors open, he drags your suitcase down the hall to your apartment for you and drops it on the floor in the entryway. You take your shoes and jacket off and sigh, pouting at him.

“I am gross,” you mutter. “Between the bar and the hangover and the airplane…”

Oscar laughs and reaches for your hand, heading towards the bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up, then.”

“Oh!” You say, face heating up. “Together?”

He turns over his shoulder, a soft grin on his face, cheeks pink already. “If you want?”

You nod eagerly. “I want.”

…..

“Logan,” Alex says carefully, nudging his teammate’s shoulder. “Mate. Um. He’s not coming back down.”

Logan turns to Alex and blinks, and then his eyes go wide. “Shit.”

“It’s been ten minutes,” Lily adds from the backseat. “They’re probably already-“

“Don’t make it worse,” Logan whines, putting the car into drive. “Oh, Max is gonna kill me.”

Alex snorts. “Max knew that was never going to work,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s just playing a little bit of mind games with Oscar. He’ll chill out soon, don’t worry.”

“And in the meantime,” Lily adds, “maybe just try and stay out of the middle of it.”

…..

The last few weeks of school seem to fly by. Normally, you’re excited for summer, but you can feel the days slipping out of your hands and find yourself desperate to hold on. You cherish every moment, from family dinners with the whole team even though the season is done, to the end of season sports banquet that you get to be Oscar’s official date for, to the date nights with Oscar that leave you grinning from ear to ear. It all makes you wildly happy.

You spend a lot of time at the house with them once Max and Lando finally calm down about the two of you dating. Max still gives Oscar a dirty look when you both come downstairs together in the mornings sometimes, but you always shoot him a glare back and he settles down. They’re coming around to it, you think. They like Oscar, after all.

You spend most of finals week camped out at their kitchen table, studying like and. They all rotate in and out- you quiz Lando on his vocab for one exam, edit one of Charles’ essays for him, and watch over Max’s shoulder as he submits a PowerPoint for a final project. Oscar’s there anytime you are, sitting next to you, supplying you with snacks and water and words of affirmation. He’s your calm in a storm, your steady anchor. You’re beyond thankful for him, and you tell him every chance you get. He always says it right back.

You finish your last final of the year on a Wednesday, and you head over to the house nearly immediately afterwards. It’s strangely quiet- almost everyone is out taking exams or doing last minute studying. But Oscar’s there, waiting on the same couch the two of you shared on that snow day months ago, and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi, baby,” he says softly, opening his arms wide for you. “All done?”

You nod, crawl onto the couch, and bury yourself against his chest, relishing in the way he wraps his arms so tightly around you. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and you feel your face heat up. When he laughs, you hide yourself in the crook of his neck and sigh. He rubs his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion, and you feel the last bits of stress drain from your body.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Sleepy,” you mumble.

Your head slips lower to rest against the firm plane of his chest. His arms are strong around you. You could stay here forever, you think, wrapped up in him, breathing him in.

“Take a nap?” He suggests, fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’ll wake you if anything important happens.”

“Mm,” you hum. He doesn’t have to suggest it twice- you were already thinking about it. “Yeah. Okay. You’re comfy.”

He laughs, the sound of it rumbling against your ear. “So are you.”

It’s easy to let yourself fall asleep. You feel safe here, head against his chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breaths. He’s warm underneath you, around you, like the sun on a summer day. You feel him kiss your forehead just before the whole world falls away, and you fall asleep with a smile on your lips.

You wake up a little later to Oscar shushing someone, followed by hushed voices. Max and Lando, whispering, a note of teasing to their voices-

“You picked the living room to take a nap,” Lando hisses, “and then expected us to not wake you up?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Oscar retorts, his hand brushing up and down your back. “She came in from her last exam and she was exhausted, so.”

Max makes a little noise that sounds vaguely like approval. “Well. At least he’s taking care of her, no?”

You can practically hear Oscar roll his eyes. “Well, she is my girlfriend, so.”

“We should do something when she wakes up,” Lando says, and you should really just open your eyes but you can’t find the energy. Ten more minutes, maybe. “Grab dinner or something.”

“We could get takeout and take it to the park,” Oscar suggests. “It’s a nice day.”

Max hisses softly. “The park by the athletics building? Um. She doesn’t- we don’t usually-“

Right. They think you still hate the park. They’re used to taking the long way around to get to class or restaurants or anything because of your refusal to walk by the soccer fields. Max is trying to look out for you all over again, like he always does.

You open one eye and say, quietly, “the park sounds nice. Give me ten more minutes.”

Beneath you, Oscar’s chest rumbles with laughter. Max and Lando break into wide, happy grins and nod in agreement. When they walk away, Oscar leans down and kisses your forehead, promising to wake you up in ten minutes. You nod, too.

…..

The guys throw a party that Friday night, because it’s tradition, at this point. Exams are done, classes are long over, and the seemingly endless summer stretches ahead. There are burgers that Max grilled on the counter next to the Jell-O shots Charles made. You’re playing a game with some of them when Oscar joins you.

“Oh, you do not want to be over here right now,” Charles says in a warning tone, as Oscar wraps one arm around your waist.

He hooks his chin over your shoulder and hums. Max gives the two of you a side eyed glare, and you roll your eyes. Oscar’s a little more bold when he’s had a few drinks, a little more willing to engage in PDA. You’re definitely not complaining. You lean back against his chest and sigh happily.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got one,” Carlos says, and the group falls quiet. “Never have I ever… had sex in this house.”

Half the group laughs. Everyone who lives in the house takes a sip, and so do you. You see Max’s hand fly out of his pocket from the corner of your eye, and hear the resulting smack when he hits Oscar on the back of the head. You splutter and nearly drop your drink as your boyfriend hisses behind you.

“Max!” You scold, eyes wide as you look at him.

“He was smirking,” Max says.

You turn and find that Max is telling the truth- your usually level headed boyfriend looks quite proud of himself. You fight a laugh and roll your eyes instead.

“I never said it was with Oscar.”

Oscar makes a confused noise. Max reaches out again and swats the back of your head this time. You duck and bury your head against Oscar’s chest, bracing your arms over your head for protection.

“Dunno why you’re hiding in my shirt, if-“ Oscar starts.

“Okay, obviously it was you,” you interrupt.

He hums again and wraps his arms around you protectively. “Okay. Hide all you want, then.”

“You do not hit women,” you hear Charles say, and then you hear the sound of what you can only assume is his hand hitting the back of Max’s head.

Max yelps. You open one eye just in time to watch him swat at Charles. Carlos, seemingly satisfied with the drama he’s created, takes his cup and walks away. Oscar reaches a hand into the fray to try and break Max and Charles’ bickering up, but he gives up nearly immediately.

“Wanna go outside?” He asks, quietly, lips against your temple.

You nod. He tucks you under his arm and leads you onto the back deck, where it’s quieter. The spring air is only slightly chilly, despite the late hour. When you shiver slightly, Oscar pulls you closer as he heads over to the porch swing. You settle in comfortably next to him.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all night,” you murmur, resting your head against his shoulder.

He nods. “I know. Last party of the year. It’s their graduation party.”

You know he’s talking about Max and Lando. You’ve been glued to their sides all night, basically, shifting from one to the other. You’d played a round of beer pong with Lando, a round of flip cup with Max, had found yourself wedged on the couch with them as they debated hockey strategy, three shots deep and incoherent.

“You could have hung out with us too,” you say, elbowing him lightly.

“I just figured…” he shrugs. “They’ve been your friends for years. And they’re leaving. I thought, maybe it’d be nice to have one more night for the three of you to just be… the college kids. The hockey players and their adopt-ee.”

In less than 24 hours, Lando and Max will don caps and gowns, and walk across the stage, and you’ll be in the stands cheering so, so loud. Max will be off to a new city. So will Lando. They’ll be far, far away. Your chest feels tight, all of the sudden. When you turn to look at Oscar, his face is a blur through your tears.

His face softens. “I know, baby.”

He pulls you into his chest protectively as the tears start to roll down your face. He’s here. You’re both staying the summer. You’ll still have George and Alex, too, and the other teammates you’ve befriended along the way. But Lando, that bright eyed, sleepy hockey player who took you under his wing, and Max, your brash but affectionate pseudo older brother, will be gone. Off to bigger and better things.

“I’m gonna miss them,” you admit, throat feeling tight. “Do you think they’ll miss me? Or will they just… forget?”

Oscar lets out a pained noise. His lips brush against the crown of your head. “Oh, baby, no.”

Before you can say anything else, you hear the back door swing open. “Piastri,” Max says, in a warning tone. “What did you do?”

“You want me to tell him?” He asks, quietly.

You nod.

Oscar pulls away only slightly. “Just a little sad,” he says, and you sniffle. “You know. Things are changing. People are graduating. And leaving.”

Max strides over in a couple steps. You turn away from Oscar’s chest to blink up at your friend. There’s a pained look on his face. The door opens again, and Lando’s there, taking in the scene with wide eyes. You sniffle softly. Oscar kisses your forehead and pulls away.

“I’ll be inside if you need anything, okay?” He says.

You nod again. He gets up, and you fight the urge to break down and sob for only a moment. Then Max is there, sitting down on one side of the swing and pulling you under his arm. Lando, seeming to have figured out what’s going on, makes his way over too and sits on the other side. You let out a shaky sigh and tuck your legs up onto the swing, arms around your knees.

“I haven’t done this without you guys,” you say, the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Not since… since freshman year. I can’t-“

“You can,” Lando says, squeezing your shoulder. “But you won’t have to. There’s these crazy inventions called phones-“

Max reaches over and smacks the back of his head, too, and that makes a laugh slip past your lips. Lando winces, rubbing at his scalp, though he doesn’t retaliate. Max squeezes your other shoulder reassuringly.

“What Lando is trying to say,” Max says, “is that we are not abandoning you, and we’re not going to forget about you, and you’re going to have a great last year of school and then go do amazing things, yes?”

You sigh. “Should’ve taken summer classes and fast-tracked college and graduated with you guys.”

“What, and miss out on senior year with your star hockey player boyfriend?” Lando teases. You roll your eyes and jab a finger into his side. “Ow. Come on, you know I’m right.”

“You know, I am the one who convinced Oscar to come here,” Max says, raising his pointer finger. “So really, I get the credit for this. I brought you a very good boyfriend.”

You know he’s right- you’ve heard it from Oscar. That he’d quit hockey before Seb sent Max to talk to him. You wonder a lot what that conversation was like, but it’s not for you to know the details. You just know that Oscar saw something he could trust in Max, and Max saw potential in Oscar.

You blink back at him, something warming in your chest. “You do like him.”

Max scoffs, shaking his head. “Of course I do. I was very upset for him when you said you had a boyfriend, because I knew if he’d have just told you how he felt-“

“You knew?” You interrupt, eyes wide. “You knew he had feelings for me and you-“

“Bunny, it was obvious to everyone other than the two of you,” Lando drawls, and you elbow him, earning a yelp. “You were both head over heels for each other.”

“Honestly, it was a relief once you told us he was your boyfriend,” Max says. “We were rooting for the two of you. Just had to give him the right amount of crap about it. You’re our friend, we’re protective, it’s what we do.”

You laugh at that, letting your head fall back against the swing. The house is a blur through your tears, and you blink to clear your vision. The lights are low in the kitchen, and there’s music pouring out of the closed door. You can see the dining room table through the window, where Oscar’s sitting, laughing with Charles.

“Do you remember,” you say, quietly, “the first time I came over here?”

Lando hums. “We couldn’t find a table in the library so I convinced you to come over to work on the project.”

“God, who gave us a ride?” You ask, brows furrowed. “Logan wasn’t here-“

Lando shakes his head. “It was Seb. Back when he was still assistant coach. I gave him the sob story because you were on crutches.”

You laugh at that. “And we worked on the project and I met everyone in the house, because-“

“Because Lando finally brought a friend home!” Max says, reaching over to jostle Lando’s shoulder. “And we were all so proud.”

Lando groans and drops his head back. Max laughs, his shoulder bumping against yours. You close your eyes. In the backyard, the first of the crickets are chirping. You run a finger over the seam of your jeans.

“You’ll be okay,” Lando says, quietly. You sniffle. “And if you’re not, we’re just a phone call away.”

“And a long flight,” you point out. “Or drive.”

“But we would make the flight, or the drive,” Max says, softly. “You know that.”

You take a steadying breath. “I’m so proud of you guys, you know that?”

“Oh, come on, don’t make us cry now,” Max says. He leans over to rest his head against yours. “But we are proud of you too.”

You sniffle and smile. You wipe some of the tears from your eyes. Inside, you can see your boyfriend, chatting with Alex and Lily. You’ll be okay. You won’t be alone. But it’ll be different. Different and weird and new, and sometimes that’s alright. After all, this had been different and new once, too. All those years ago, at that kitchen table, when Lando was across from you trying to write. Max had popped his head into the room and cocked his head at you.

“Are you staying for dinner?” He’d asked.

“Yes,” Lando had answered for you, before you could even open your mouth.

It had only been the beginning.

You drag the two of them into the kitchen with you, and you pour cheap tequila into plastic cups one more time. You hand them off and raise your glass.

“To new beginnings,” you say, tapping your glass against theirs.

They echo the statement with bright smiles on their faces. You take the shots, and then they wrap you up in a bone crushing group hug. Just a phone call away. You can live with that.

…..

Oscar’s the one to drag you upstairs at the end of the night. You’re not drunk anymore, faded to a light buzz by the time everyone left, but you’re exhausted and that doesn’t help. You both get ready for bed, and then you tumble onto the mattress, sighing happily. Oscar does the same, turning onto his side to face you. He’s in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, and you don’t even try to hide the way your eyes scan his torso. When you look back at his face, he’s giggling teasingly.

“Shut up,” you grumble, reaching out to drag your finger against his collarbone. “You’re hot, you can’t blame me.”

You feel more than hear the way his breath hitches in his chest. Then he reaches across the bed towards you, his hand landing on your hip. You yelp when he pulls you in close, only settling once he has your leg tucked over his waist. You trace a line from his chest to behind his ear, your fingers sinking into his hair, and you relish in the way it makes him shiver.

“You’re hot, too,” he mumbles, and you feel your face heat up, unable to keep from grinning. “And cute. And funny, and-“

“Shut up,” you groan, leaning into him to bury your face in his chest. “You cheeseball.”

He giggles again, hand coming up to cup the back of your neck and hold you close. “But I’m your cheeseball.”

You groan, softly, but you nod against his skin anyways, because really, you wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s yours. No matter how absolutely cheesy he gets, he’s yours, and you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Mine.”

He pulls your face away from his chest, then, so he can drag you into a searing, melting kiss, one that sets your nerves on fire and leaves you breathless. In the time since you started dating, Oscar’s figured out exactly how to take you apart, how to get you to go from bashful and sweet to gasping for air in a matter of seconds. You’d call it unfair if it wasn’t for the fact that it makes him the same way.

You run your hands through his hair as he rolls over and holds himself above you, one hand running down to keep your knee hooked around his waist. He slips his tongue into your mouth, hot and insistent, and you let yourself sink into the feeling.

He pulls away just slightly a few seconds later, while you’re arching your back, and he brushes his lips against your when he speaks. “You’re my favorite part of this year, you know,” he says.

You let out an involuntary whine and open your eyes to blink up at him, eyes already pricking with tears. “Oscar,” you whine, pouting dramatically. “You can’t just say that, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He laughs light and nips at the swell of your lower lip. “But I mean it. You mean the world to me.”

Your chest grows tight. “You mean the world to me, too,” you say, tracing a finger over his cheek and pressing it into one of his dimples. “More than you’ll ever understand.”

You mean it. You could tell him a million times over and you don’t think he’d get it. Oscar and the others credit you with pulling him out of his shell, but the way he supports you goes light years beyond that. You think of the brochure on your kitchen counter, your plans for the summer, the way he holds your hand through any tough decision or study session or anything in between, and you wish you could really tell him how much it means, how much you care for him, how much you lo-

You’ve been avoiding saying it in your head, because you’ve been afraid it’ll slip out in real life. But maybe, just maybe-

“I love you,” he says, before you can even form the words.

Now the tears really do form, now your chest feels so tight in the best way, now you know what they mean when they say lovestruck. There’s a light in his eyes that makes you feel so warm from the inside out. To know and be known. To hold his hand and have him hold on tightly to you.

“I love you,” you echo back, and the grin that lights up his face feels like sunshine on your own face.

He kisses you, then, again and again, and he takes you apart the way he knows best, and the two of you say I love you a million more times. When you start to fall asleep later, you’re wrapped up in his arms, limbs boneless, pleasure sated. You smile at the way he drags his lips against your neck, at the way you can feel his smile.

“I love you,” he says, one more time, as you close your eyes.

“I love you,” you say back, just to feel his smile grow.

You wake up the next morning to someone pounding on his bedroom door. Your mouth tastes awful and dry, your hair is a mess, and you’re held against his chest, face stuck to his skin. It’s mildly to moderately uncomfortable, except that it’s Oscar and he loves you and you love him and-

“If you’re not up in 5 seconds we’re coming in-“ George calls out.

“No!” Both you and Oscar yell at the exact same second, suddenly wide awake.

You sit up on reflex, then yelp at the realization that both of you are completely naked, and that you definitely didn’t lock the bedroom door the night before. You scramble to hold the blankets over your chest as Oscar groans beneath you.

“We’re awake,” you call out, rolling your eyes when you hear Alex laughing. “Don’t come in.”

“What’s the matter?” Alex calls out. He fakes a gasp of horror. “You two aren’t…”

Oscar cuts him off before he can finish the sentence. “Fuck off, we’ll be down in… ten minutes,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“We can’t be late,” George calls out. You fight a giggle as Oscar attempts to pull you back down against his chest. “It’s graduation day, you know.”

Oscar’s almost got you back down on the bed, but when George says it, you scramble back up. Your boyfriend groans and drops his arms, and when you turn to look he’s already got a pout on his face. It’s graduation day. You need to get ready and get dressed and get there early enough to get a good seat and-

“We’re up,” you call out, untangling yourself from the comforter. “Promise.”

You hear them walk away and breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does, too. But when you start to climb out of the bed, he lets out a soft noise of confusion, one that makes you turn and look at him with confusion of your own.

“It’s only 8:00 am,” he says, voice soft and sleep riddled. “We have plenty of time.”

You shake your head. “We need to take showers and eat breakfast and I have to run home to get my dress.” You sigh. “And I refuse to be late.”

Oscar groans and shakes his head. His eyes never leave you as you slip out of the bed. He raises his brows as the blankets fall away, though, and he reaches a hand up to prop behind his head. You roll your eyes, though you can feel your body heating up under his gaze.

“We don’t have time for funny business,” you scold, and he blinks innocently up at you. “I mean it, Osc.”

“M’not doing anything, baby,” he insists, pouting slightly. “Just admiring the view.”

You give him a discerning glare. “You’re trying to get me back in bed and it’s not gonna work this time.”

“Would it usually?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

He laughs at that, bright and airy and full of- love, you realize. Full of love, and your chest twists, heart skipping a beat. There are butterflies in your stomach as he smiles at you, his cheeks rosy red.

“You gonna get up?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “M’comfy. Gonna stay in bed a little longer.”

You shrug and turn away, taking a few steps towards the bathroom. “Alright, fine. Guess I’ll have to shower all by myself.”

He only hesitates for a second before you hear him make a mad scramble to follow after you. His laughter echoes around you under the spray of the shower a few minutes later, and you can’t help but follow suit.

…..

You’re ready for graduation with plenty of time to spare, waving the seniors off from the house when they head over early to line up. You cry while they walk away, Max and Lando shoving each other on the sidewalk, Carlos and Charles with bright grins on their faces. You’re not sure the tears stop the whole entirety of the graduation after that, from you and Oscar finding seats, to the speeches, to all of them walking across the stage, to the caps sailing high in the air. You wipe them away just seconds before you meet back up with everyone, because as emotional as you are, this is a happy day. You keep your hand wrapped tightly in Oscar’s though.

They’re easy to find out on the lawn outside the auditorium. They’re surrounded by teammates in jerseys and other hockey gear. Lando spots you first and pulls you in for an enthusiastic hug, and Max follows suit. You fight back a fresh wave of tears, squeezing Oscar’s fingers in yours. He echoes the motion back to you, and you feel grounded, safe, cared for.

When they pull away, you pinch both of their cheeks. “I’m so proud of you two.”

Max grins widely. “We’re proud of you, too, Bunny.”

You start to tear up all over again. The hug that Max hauls all of you into- Oscar included- knocks his cap off his head and into your hands, sends Lando’s honor cords askew, and makes Oscar yelp. You’re crushed in the middle of it, laughing. You hear Charles say something and feel him bump into your shoulder. It’s not long before a giant huddle forms.

“What is it?” Carlos asks, his hand knocking against the top of your head.

“We are proud,” Max says, happily. “Of everyone.” Max smiles and pats the top of yours and Oscar’s heads with open hands. Then he pulls away, rising up on his tiptoes to try and see above the crowd. “Okay, everyone, time to celebrate. Follow me!”

You end up at the rink, because really, there’s nowhere else you’d expect to be than here. Max hands out skates to family and friends who don’t have their own while the players suit up. Tomorrow, they’ll empty their cubbies out for the summer, some of them, for the last time. But today…

You reach for a pair of skates. Max looks up, eyes wide.

“I’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he smiles softly. “One last skate, yeah?”

He lets out a breath through pursed lips. “Yeah. Hey, Piastri!” He calls out, and Oscar looks up from the bench where he’s tying his skates. “She wants to skate. You don’t let go of her the entire time, okay?”

You groan. “Max-“

“Aye aye, captain,” Oscar says, giving him a mock salute.

Max rolls his eyes affectionately before he exchanges a glance with you. “It won’t be long and they will be saying that to him, and he will see how it feels.”

At first, you brush the comment off as Max’s typical playful banter. You take a pair of skates in your size and join Oscar on the bench to lace them up. He loops his arm through yours to help you out onto the ice. Lando’s already out, skating around with his sister. Someone has given his friend Martin the aux cord, and he’s starting up a playlist. It’s been a while since you’ve skated, so you’re very grateful for the support Oscar gives as you get out on the ice. It comes back quickly, though, and he grins as he watches you grow more confident.

He’s a good teacher, a good leader. You turn Max’s comment over in your head again as the two of you do a couple laps around the rink, waving at Lando and dodging younger siblings who tear across the ice. Oscar keeps his arm linked with yours, and you lean into his warmth.

He’d make a good captain. Charles had said that, once, before you and Oscar were even close to being a thing. He has captain energy, as Lando puts it- some people are just meant for it. He’s calm, cool, collected, but he has a big heart, too. And you’ve gotten a front row seat to the way he’s opened up over the past year- he could help others do it, too. You can’t think of a better fit, really.

You slow down and turn to look up at your boyfriend. The song that’s playing is poppy and bright. Across the ice, Max is chasing Charles while Charles’ brothers laugh.

“So. When were you gonna tell me, Cap?” You ask, raising your brows at him.

He sighs. “How did you even…”

“Max made a comment when you saluted him,” you say. You’re grinning at him. “So it’s true then? They asked you be captain? Osc, come on! This is exciting!”

He wrinkles his nose. “I haven’t said yes yet. He and Charles talked to me yesterday and… I wanted to think about it. I wanted to talk to you about it. I just…”

You nod in understanding and slip your hand down to wrap it in his, squeezing softly. A bit of the tension drains from his shoulders. You lean in slightly and press a kiss to his cheek.

“Then let’s find a time, and we’ll talk through it,” you say with a smile. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great captain. But whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

He lets out a slow breath. “Thanks, baby.”

He keeps his hold on your hand and pulls you across the ice to where the rest of your friends are. Max grins wide when he sees you coming, and Lando’s face follows suit. One last time on the ice. One last day to be a team. Last, last, last, and yet- it feels oddly hopeful. Oscar takes your hand and spins you in a circle on the ice as your friends laugh and tease and joke around you, and you can’t help but join in on the joy. You lean in to kiss him, and he returns it eagerly, hands cupping your cheeks, smiling into the kiss.

There’s a loud noise, and you both pull away, startled. You wobble a bit on the ice, and your knee twinges, just slightly, but Oscar catches you. Maybe Max was right, after all. You look up and see Max, grinning, and behind him… the ice maintenance guy is driving the Zamboni out onto the rink. The one they use at games, the one they pile a bunch of kids on between periods, the one you’ve been begging for a ride on since your freshman year. Oscar’s laughing behind you while Lily skates your way, a wide grin on her face.

“About time,” you say to Max when he helps you climb up a few minutes later.

He grins. “Couldn’t graduate before I fulfilled that last wish, huh?”

It’s not as thrilling of a ride as you’d thought it would be, years ago, watching it from your very first game. But your friends are all watching, and Lily is next to you, and Oscar waves excitedly when you go past him, and that makes it better than you could’ve ever imagined.

…..

Max makes one last family dinner before he moves out, even though you offer to cook instead, and even after Charles suggests ordering takeout. You think he wants this for himself. One last chance to cook a meal for his friends, his family, really. You can understand that.

Most of the team have gone home for the summer already, and it ends up just being the guys who live in the house- Max, Lando, Charles, Alex, George, and Oscar, plus you and Lily, of course. You help set the table and make sure everyone has drinks, while Oscar chops up a salad and makes Lando go sit down in the living room before he hurts himself with one of the knives.

You all sit down together one last time, sunlight streaming into the dining room. Max brings the food in, and behind him, Charles comes in with arms full of gift bags, one for each of you.

“One last gift from your team captains,” he says, winking when he sets your bag down in front of you.

Lando gets his open first- a candle that smells like your college town, or at least it claims to on the label. So he can remember home wherever he goes. He grins and breathes it in deep. For Alex and George, it’s matching aprons, with the requirement that they continue family dinners next year. You miss Lily’s gift in the process of pulling your own out of the bag, which is shortly followed by tears filling your eyes.

It’s a large frame- a collage, painstakingly put together. It’s full of photos from throughout the year, ticket stubs and bits of receipts from family dinner grocery runs. At the center, larger than all the others, there’s a photo- you have no idea who took it, even, or that it had been taken at all. It’s from the night they won the championship, at the bar. You’re tucked under Oscar’s arm, surrounded by Max, Lando, Charles and Carlos, shot glasses in your hands. Post bar kiss, pre celebratory shot, and the smiles on everyone’s lips make you feel warm and fuzzy. As much as they’d acted like they didn’t approve, you can see the joy right there on their faces, and you’re pretty sure it’s not just because of the championship win.

“Oh, wow. Thanks, guys,” you mumble, as Oscar helps wipe away your tears. “This is…”

“We actually all helped with that one,” Max says, gesturing around the table. “Figured it was about time we made one for you.”

You lean heavily into Oscar’s shoulder and let the tears flow as you look at every single picture. Every single moment, captured and glued down here. You’re going to keep it forever, you already know it.

You glance over at Oscar’s bag and spot a jersey, a perfect replica of the ones they wear in the games. It’s got his number on it, and his name. He flips it over and you spot the C on the chest. Captain. He’d decided to accept after the two of you talked, but it makes you so happy to see it in stitching, permanent. To have it be official.

“That one’s for you to keep,” Max says, pointing at the jersey. “Separate from your game ones, so you can keep it nice.”

“Thanks, guys,” Oscar says, sounding a bit awestruck.

“Bunny is definitely going to steal that,” Alex says.

You glare at him, but he’s probably right. It does look cozy.

The food is getting cold on the table, so Max urges everyone to eat, even as you’re all still wiping away tears. The meal does look delicious, though, so you dig in.

“You know, I never asked,” Max says, gesturing towards you. “You said you interviewed for a job for the summer. Did you get it?”

“You didn’t tell them?” Oscar asks, surprised.

“It was exam week, and then graduation,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “Figured I’d tell them when things quieted down.” You grin widely and turn back to Max. Oscar squeezes your hand under the table. “I did get the job. I’m gonna help run a kids camp,” you explain. Max raises his brows. You add, “a soccer camp. And maybe coach one of the intermediate teams in the fall.”

The brochure Oscar had handed you weeks ago had been enticing, the interview even more so, and the tour of the nearby facilities had made your mind up. They’d offered you the job, and you’d accepted happily- a reason to stay in town for the summer, to get to spend time with Oscar, and a connection to the sport you loved so dearly. Getting to help others find their love for it, too. You’re so excited you can barely stop smiling about it.

Lando, who’s sitting next to you, leans over to wrap you up in a hug. Max stands up and comes around the table to do the same. You know they understand more than anyone how much this means to you, how much you’ve missed soccer, how much this feels like a step in the right direction.

Well. They understand it more than anyone, except maybe Oscar, who’s still holding tightly to your hand, a grin on his face. He’d almost quit hockey for good. He’d almost lost his sport, too. But he didn’t, and he’s here, at family dinner with you, and you’ve never been happier. You love him, and he loves you. He leans over to kiss your temple, and for once, nobody says anything about it.

There are moving boxes in the hallway. In just a few short days, Max, Lando, and Charles will be gone, their bedrooms empty, their voices missing from the cacophony of the house. For once, you don’t feel the need to cling to all of them, to dig your heels in the sand and beg for someone to freeze time. If you’d have frozen this year before it even began, you’d have never met Oscar.

Every ending is a beginning, too. After all, energy is neither created or destroyed, it just changes form. And objects in motion tend to stay in motion. You’d learned that months ago, with Oscar’s help, in physics class. Now you’re here, witnessing it. Max is off to his new team. Lando is off to a new job in a new city. Oscar’s got a team to lead, a new role to take on, a large set of shoes to fill, but you know he’ll be amazing at it. You can’t wait to see where the next year takes all of you.

The energy is always there. Sometimes it’s just about finding it again.

And you?

You’re just getting started.

…..

warning: long author’s note incoming:

hi everyone! just wanted to say a HUGE thank you for sticking with me & this series. i hope you’ve enjoyed it, and i hope i’ve given them all a satisfying ending. when i started this fic i had no idea it would end up being this long, or that it would take this long to finish, or that so many people would care so much about it!! i appreciate all the love & support i’ve gotten, especially in the past few weeks which have been a bit rough for me.

the series is now finished, but please, feel free to send me messages if you’ve still got questions or comments on the story! i’m definitely open to a few blurbs ab them here or there (a couple people asked what the lore for the pic of max & the broken door would be, so that might be a blurb topic!) overall, though, i hope you’ve all enjoyed, and that you continue to stick around! thank you again for EVERYTHING!!

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11 @tsireyasgf @si1ver06 @scopeiguess

[mrsshabana]

Always the groomsman, never the groom

♡ CW: 18+ MDNI, Female!reader x Gyutaro, mostly fluff and angst, some smut. Reader is a groomsmaid and Gyutaro is a groomsman.

♡ AN: I was a bridesmaid at a wedding this weekend so it inspired me to make this oneshot!

Gyutaro had been a groomsman at numerous weddings. All of his friends getting married, yet he couldn't even manage to ask a girl out.

And here he is yet again at another wedding. This time it was Akaza getting married. Gyutaro didn't know his husband to be very well, but he remembers him from college. Kyojuro Rengoku.

Gyutaro was happy for his friend, but he couldn't help but be a little jealous. He wants more than anything to fall in love and someday get married, but all he was able to manage was the occasional hook up. And even that was rare.

He's not too fond of hook ups, but he's so desperate for any kind of affection that he's willing to do almost anything. And no matter how hard he tries to get to know someone, they always leave before he can wake up in the morning. Leaving him alone, yet again. At this point he's convinced that's how things were meant to be.

Gyutaro can't help but wonder if he would be able to meet someone at the wedding. But is it really worth the inevitable heart break? When he sees you he starts to think that it might be.

You're a part of the wedding party on Kyojuro's side, you must be one of his close friends. Gyutaro immediately notices how beautiful you are. And the way your breasts look in that dress isn't bad either.

Gyutaro's breath hitches when he finds out you'll be partnered with him during the ceremony. He's not sure whether to be excited or filled with dread that he get's paired with the one person he was crushing on.

You remember he wasn't able to make it to the rehearsal so you had to practice with someone else, but now that he's here you might as well introduce yourself.

"Hi there! I'm Y/N," you say in a friendly tone, reaching out your hand, "It's nice to meet you, looks like we'll be paired for the ceremony."

"H-hey," he reaches out and shakes your hand, "I'm Gyutaro."

You give him a recap of everything they told you at the rehearsal, "So it's super easy, you'll just follow the other guys down the aisle. Then after the ceremony, Akaza and Kyojuro will walk down the aisle. Then each of us will get with our partners and walk down the aisle after them."

"So... I just walk over to you and uh...?" He's trying to pay attention but he keeps staring at your boobs.

You smile, "We'll go after Douma and Shinobu. Once they get halfway down the aisle we'll walk to the middle, latch arms, and walk together. You can just follow my lead," You try to make it make sense but it's hard to explain since he wasn't there for the rehearsal.

"Oh ok, cool. Sounds easy enough," he says as he has absolute no clue what to do.

When it comes time for the ceremony to start, it goes pretty smoothly. Gyutaro just follows the other guys' lead. The whole ceremony is really beautiful and you feel yourself tearing up when Akaza and Kyojuro read their vows to each other.

After they kiss and walk down the aisle, you look over at Gyutaro. He knows what to do right?

His palms are sweaty and he can't remember for the life of him what he's supposed to do. He's lucky Douma goes before him so he can see what he's supposed to do.

The two of you meet in the middle and you lock arms with him, "What'd you think of the ceremony?" you whisper to him as you walk down the aisle together.

"It was real nice, I'm happy for them," He smiles, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice.

You, Gyutaro, and the rest of the wedding party wait around to take photos while the rest of the guests have the reception.

The whole time Gyutaro's thoughts are running rampant. You were so nice to him! No girl has ever been so kind to him, but maybe you were just being nice? There's no way you have a crush on him or something. That'd be absurd, you've only known him for a few hours.

He has no way of knowing that you actually find him very handsome, especially in that suit he's wearing. He has a je ne sais quoi about him. Something unique that you've never seen in a guy before.

After the photos you spend most of the wedding with your friends, and Gyutaro spends time with his. It's not until the wedding is almost over and everyone has had a few drinks that you talk to him again.

You noticed he was sitting alone at a table so you went over and sat next to him, "Hey Gyutaro, mind if I join you?"

His cheeks immediately become rosy, "I uh- no, not at all. Go ahead."

He's at a loss for words. A girl has never came up to him like this and initiated a conversation. Could you possibly be... interested in him?

He soon finds out when after talking for over an hour, he asks you if you want to come over to his place tonight. It's a bold move, and he never would have done it without the help of some alcohol. He swears he's dreaming when you actually agree.

"Are you sure...?" he asks.

"Yeah! Unless you're secretly a murderer or something," you smile and nudge his shoulder.

He figures he should take advantage of this opportunity before you realize how repulsive he is and change your mind. So he quickly takes you on his motorcycle, back to his apartment in the city.

When you get there Gyutaro tries to play it cool, showing you around his apartment and trying to make friendly conversation. But really he just wants to get to the main event. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling incredibly horny.

It doesn't take long before you find yourself sitting on his lap, making out with him on his bed. His hands already pushing up your dress to grab at your ass.

You're so different from the other women Gyutaro has hooked up with. They never went as far as wanting to kiss him, let alone actually bothering to touch him like you are. It sends shivers down his spine and makes him feel amounts of affection he didn't know possible.

He starts to get really nervous when you lay on your back. You actually want to see his face while he fucks you? He's only ever done doggy style with his previous partners because his face would ruin the mood. But not you.

You caress his cheek and look into his eyes as he plunges into you. That's the moment that he becomes attached to you, feeling himself falling for you.

He almost loses it when you moan his name and hold him close to your body as he thrusts into you. He thought this kind of shit was only in the movies, not real life. Let alone for a guy like him.

You don't yell at him when he becomes too overwhelmed by emotion to pull out. Instead you wrap your arms around him, kiss him, and tell him what a good job he did.

He knows how pathetic he must seem, but he can't help but cling to you. Holding you close to him, and nuzzling his nose into your hair. God you smell so good.

You aren't used to having hook ups like this, so you hope he won't mind if you stay the night. And by his clinginess it seems like he doesn't want you to leave either.

In the morning, Gyutaro wakes up in a panic. He slept in too late, you must have already left. He shoots up with wide eyes only to see your sleeping form still beside him.

"She... she didn't leave?" he mumbles to himself, "But they always leave..."

You're different. You're special. And this is when Gyutaro realizes that he's falling in love with you. Maybe the next time he goes to a wedding he won't just be a groomsman, but the groom.

[twilight-orchid]

The Shopping Trip

Jason Todd x Pregnant Reader

Word count 1,437

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, cursing, brief sexual reference

Part 1 Part 2

Ever since your pregnancy began to show, Jason was on you like a hawk. You wince from the pressure on your back, he’s there with lotion to give you a massage. You’re too sick to eat, he goes out of his way to make you something you can keep down. He made sure you got enough sleep, bought all of your cravings no matter what time or weather condition, waited on you hand and foot, and was happy to sit there and hold you when you sobbed at whatever triggered your hormones.

Sure, he was doting and sweet, but he was also protective and possessive; traits highly exasperated by the fact you were carrying his kids. Lord help anyone who even looked at you the wrong way, your giant guard dog of a fiancé had a hand on your hip and was staring daggers in seconds. Any time you left the house he was at high alert. You thought it was endearing to a point. However, the way he currently surveyed the Babies-R-Us as you entered like he was on an undercover mission was a bit excessive. He held your hand tight, as if he were afraid someone would whisk you away at any moment.

He grabbed a cart then stopped once you were a bit into the store.

“Alright, game plan.” He said, turning to you.

“Cribs, car seats, a stroller, blankets, towels, bouncers, tummy time pillows, highchairs, clothes, bottles, diapers, toys, bibs, pacifiers.” You read off the list on your phone.

“Damn that’s a list.” He muttered. You snickered, your hands dropping to rest on your 6-month rounded belly.

“Maybe next time you won’t break the condom.” You whispered teasingly.

“I don’t think I recall hearing any complaints at the time. And that night I remember every detail of.” He said lowly, his voice slipping into that sexy growl of his that helped get you in this situation to begin with. He loved how the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away from him, your lip between your teeth as you too remembered the night in question. He chuckled at your flustered face before he decided you’d had enough.

“Alright, alright doll. After you.”

The couple had only walked a bit further into the store before you squealed and ran over to a display. Well, ran was a bit of an exaggeration at that point; it was more like a quick waddle. He felt guilty about how much pain you were in as the kids grew, but God forgive him, he also found watching you try to maneuver around your middle hilarious.

He followed you to the display as you turned to him beaming, matching purple and green onesies in your hands.

“Look! They have little hoodies. And matching socks and baby mittens! It’s pretty warm, it’ll be perfect to bring them home from the hospital in. And they’re so adorable!” He watched your little outburst with a smile on his lips. Cute.

“Those are perfect.” He agreed. You grinned as you dropped them in the cart.

“So, what are we actually getting today and what’s going on the registry?” He asked as they walked towards the cribs.

“All of the furniture, the strollers, and the car seats will go on the registry; Bruce was very insistent about it. We just need to pick them out today.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll buy the whole thing plus some.”

“Most likely.” You agreed with a smile.

Jason really hadn’t been sure how Bruce would react to the news, but surprisingly The Dark Knight was actually taking it in stride. If the family didn’t know any better, they’d venture as far to say he was excited. However, Babs and Dick had him beat. Though no one was as elated as Alfred.

“We should go ahead and get stuff like bibs, blankets, clothes, bottles, pacifiers, and diapers today. But we should put some of that on the registry too, we could always use more.” He nodded in agreement as they reached the cribs.

They walked through the long, overfilled aisle of various cribs and cradles. Jason had no idea there were so many options to choose from, especially since most of them looked exactly the same. He turned to see if any had caught your eye, but he found you with a distinct frown on your face.

”What’s wrong doll?”

“We should have picked out the color scheme for the nursery before looking at furniture.” You replied. One thing you had been insistent on was a put together nursery. Jason had read about it in the numerous pregnancy books he’d read: nesting. You wanted everything cleaned, organized, and put together by the time your little boy and girl got there, and Jason could tell it was stressing you. He came around behind you and pulled you into him, his hands finding the sides of your belly and his fingers massaging circles into the fabric of your top.

“We can get neutrals for the furniture so it’ll work with whatever we choose. And I can always paint it if there’s a specific color pallet you pick out.” He suggested softly. You mulled it over for a second but nodded in agreement.

“This one is cute then. The bottom drops out so we could use it until they’re around 2. And the whole mattress is washable.” You mused, leaning your head back into his chest.

“That one’s nice, but look at this one. The bottom doesn’t drop as far but it turns into a toddler bed. And there’s all that storage on the bottom, we’ll need that while they’re little. Mattress’s still washable too.” You smiled and nodded, pulling away from him to write down the serial number.

The two of you moved about the store, picking out strollers and highchairs, décor and toys, planning paints and curtains. The cart was quickly filling with little things you found that would be helpful; swaddling blankets, wrap carriers, a baby monitor, a bottle warmer, a boogie sucker, etc. With how thorough you thought your list was, it was insane how many things you were seeing that you knew you would need. Eventually you rounded to the large expanse of colorful clothes, shoes, and accessories.

“Let’s split up, maybe 3 outfits each per baby for now?” You suggested. Jason nodded, kissing the top of your head and leaving you with the cart. First and foremost, he picked up a red onesie reading daddy’s girl in black cursive that came with a black tutu and black gold glitter leggings. Next, he grabbed a blue parter in crime onesie with little black cargo pants. Next, he was going for-

He heard soft sniffing coming from nearby. He looked around and was alarmed to find the cries coming from you. He rushed to your side.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You turned to him with tears down your face and a little formal suit in your hand.

“Jason, look at the tiny suit! It has a little bow tie, and itty-bitty dress shoes!” You could barely get it out before your voice broke. He stared at you blankly, trying to hold it it, but failed miserably as laughter overtook him.

“You’re crying over the baby suit? Seriously?”

“Fuck off Todd, I’m hormonal and it’s cute.” You glared at him, but he could see the humor in the quirk of your lip. He held his hands up in defeat.

“You’re right, you’re right. How dare I?”

“How dare you indeed.” You wiped your tears and turned back to the shelf of clothes you were looking at to hide your growing smile and hung the suit back up.

You both picked out your 6 outfits quickly, and in fact it was hard not to grab more. You hadn’t even seen your babies yet but you were so excited to dress them up. Maybe it was the fact that they were about to be first time parents, but everything was adorable.

You picked out some beanies, baby mittens, and socks to keep them warm, and Jason insisted on grabbing a Wonder Woman and a Superman swaddling blanket, pointedly leaving the Batman one untouched. Finally it was time to hit check out.

Jason said no to the printed copy when the cashier asked if he wanted the receipt in hand or emailed, honestly he wanted to quickly grow amnesia for that part of the trip. Especially since he knew that was trip number 1 of 2000 probably. However, when he looked over at you, your hand protectively resting over your children’s temporary home, the price tag didn’t matter quite as much. And as long as he had you with him, he didn’t care how many shopping trips you had to go on for your new, growing little family.

Whoo boy I couldn’t figure out how to end this one. Sorry it took so long, life is very stressful right now and writing is more of a passive hobby for me. This one doesn’t feel as put together as my others so sorry if it’s not what you were hoping for! I really just wanted to do some domestic fluff. Regardless thank you for reading and I really really appreciate the support on part 1 and 2!!!

[thepersonnamedsam]

mornings spent well - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader, f1!grid x reader (platonic)

summary: pt. 3 of the mini series mornings spent well. where the reader and charles finally get married like normal people

pt. 1 / pt. 2

word count: 1k

warnings: none, maybe too much fluff, I cried while writing this

note: enjoy it :) and don't be a ghost reader 

masterlist / taglist

The wedding had been planned to the last detail. It would happen on your first anniversary on the beach with only people you knew. No press was allowed, and you had secured and rented out the private beach part. Charles even composed your wedding march.

Your wedding dress just the way you wanted it to be. You knew the whole grid, including Daniel and Sebastian. A few friends and family were at your side of the beach on the other the grid and Charles family. Carlos stood to Charles left as you walked down the aisle with you father.

He looked at you and instantly felt a tear rolling down his cheek. Carlos wanted to snort so badly, seeing his good friend so vulnerable and soft was definitely a newer sight for Carlos. But he didn’t snort, he smiled. He knew Charles was smitten for you and he was happy that you provided him a feeling of home.

Daniel, the photo- and videographer of your wedding couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing Charles and you so happy after what happened exactly a year before was making him so excited for what still was to come. The camera always either pointed at him or you. Sometimes overflying the small crowd.

Your mother was crying, seeing her child walking down the aisle with so much pride and joy in her eyes was the biggest wish come true for her. Looking at her husband walking down with you, she couldn’t believe how grown up you are.

Pascale seeing her son standing strong and proud with watery eyes made her heart melt. Missing her late husband even more that day, wishing he could witness their son’s wedding as well. Even Arthur and Lorenzo looked proud of their brother. Proud he settled down for someone as glorious as you and proud they were able to see the happiness you bring Charles.

And you out of all couldn’t stop crying as soon as you saw your husbands tear leave his eye you were a goner. Not much caring about your make up, he still sees you as the most beautiful person on this planet.

With every step you took your heart pounded harder. Not because you were nervous, no, it wouldn’t be the first time marrying him, would it. No, it kept bounding more and more because you couldn’t wait to be near the love of your life. You wanted to smell his scent, feel his warmth against your body and see his piercing green eyes. You were so excited to actually marry this man again, that you couldn’t stop the chuckle that left your mouth.

Both nervous and happy waited Charles for you at the altar. You couldn’t be fast enough for him. Carlos sensing his nervousness and laying a calming hand on his shoulder, whispering: “You got this, brother.” His reassuring smile calming Charles a bit down. He still couldn’t believe it; he was marrying you. You out of all the people he could’ve chosen, out of all the people you could have chosen, he was marrying you again and you were marrying him again.

Lewis Hamilton, a person you instantly clicked with as you first met him, Sebastian Vettel, someone you only ever met once in Melbourne, and Fernando Alonso, a fatherly figure for you, watched as you halted at the altar and looked at your (soon to be) husband. Your father handing Charles you and giving him a firm handshake. They looked at the pair smiling at each other and be all lovey-dovey. They were happy for the pair.

“You are so beautiful, belle”, he whispered. A smile spreading on your face, wide enough to reach your sides of your face. Holding both his hands in yours, squeezing them and closing your eyes, you hoped that you would never forget this moment, this feeling. Him standing before you in his cream suit, smiling wide and genuine. Feeling his hands squeezing yours back.

The officiator announced the typical speech he had to deliver. And the time came, where they would say their vows to each other. Charles, the gentleman as he is, let you start.

“Charles, my love, we first met one year and a week ago. I gave you my number on a coffee cup and you decided on this day a year ago you wanted to marry me. With lots of tequila and bad breath I said yes. This was the best decision I have ever made. I promise to always love and support you, in good and bad times. In times where there are no points at all and where there are points endless to count. Charles, I promise to be there in sickness and health until we’re both grey and old. I promise to be there at every step of your way, and I promise you, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, to love you unconditionally and give you all my time I have.”

Charles smiled, cried, and laughed. How did he end up so lucky?

“Chérie, I promise to always love you. I promise to always support you and be there for you. I promise you to cherish you and every moment we get to spend together. I am yours and you are mine. Soulmates to never be apart. From strangers to lovers, I will be there all the way, from sickness to health, from life to death. You are my everything and I will love you as long as the sun still rises every day. I loved you yesterday, I will love you tomorrow and most importantly, I love you today.”

Your eyes red from crying, happy tears of course, you couldn’t stop looking at the love of your life. He was your everything. And as the officiator finally said those long-awaited words, you kissed the groom and felt like you were flying. You finally had an official wedding; you could finally dance to your wedding song and collect memories from that day.

The only thing you wished would change from last year, was you would wake up with nothing under the sheets and a head full of memories instead of aches.

Charles would never let you go, but you can assure him, you would never leave him anyway.

°°°

previous part

[l0starl]

Hey I have a request! (Miles 1610):

Trying to surprise him with a present but he's trying to hide the fact that he already knows that you're getting him a present

Thanks for requesting anon 💗

Edit : this is not proof read 🥲

— 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓!!

You’ve noticed miles kept looking at a certain pair of Jordan’s every chance he got while walking to school. The way his eyes sparkle and his smile wider like a little kid on Christmas morning.

He’s done a lot for you, and you’re very grateful for that! So why not you do something for him..?

So, you’ve saved all of your allowance and money from babysitting to go buy them!

You were walking down the street as laughter and chatter emerged all around you. Looks like the streets were packed, hopefully you can get to the shoes on time before someone else gets their hands on it.

You pushed past the crowed of people, blurting out quick “excuse me” or “Sorry!” As you gripped your bag tightly

You spotted the shop as you hurried inside, the door making a “ding!” Sound

You greeted the shop keeper with a smile while you strolled through the aisle as your fingertips grazed the shoe shelf, your gaze landed on the shoe as a sign points to it, reading “Brand new!!!”

Now you know why miles kept on eyeing those shoes, it’s color scheme could really catch a person’s eye.

You picked up the shoes and brought them up the counter, the cashier greeting you once again with a smile. You gave her the shoes as she scanned the tag

“That’ll be $120”

You dig through your bag pulling out the cash, handing it to the cashier.

The cashier takes the money, neatly putting it inside the cash register. While they put the shoes inside a bag

“Thanks for shopping! Have a nice day”

You nodded as you left the store, the door once again made a “ding!!” Sound

Now how were you going to hide this from miles?

You went back home and put the box in the corner of your closet, putting a few things on top of it to make it seem like it’s always been there

Your closet has clothes scattered across the carpet, make a mental note to clean it the chance you get.

“Now how am I gonna surprise him with this” you muttered to yourself, lost in thought

That whole weekend you were decorating the gift bag you were about to give him watching the hours pass by

And by the time Monday rolled around, you knew he would notice those shoes weren’t there behind that window frame in the store.

Currently, you were walking right beside him ready to go back to school….yikes

You both walked pass the store, the glimmer from miles eyes faded, he seemed confused to where the shoes had gone, thought he’s also noticed you’ve been questionably quiet when your always cheerful and chatty. So it didn’t take much to connect the pieces

So a few days later, you were ready to gift it to him! You invited him over to your house as you waited anxiously, walking back and forth inside your room.

Loud thoughts rang through your head, “What if I got the wrong one??” What if it’s not the right size-“

The door creaked open as miles walked inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey guapa, what did you need me here for?” Miles questioned, not able to hide the excitement in his tone

You pulled the box out your closet, the decorations glimmered as you handed it to him.

“Surprise!! Open it” you beamed

He pulled the shoes out the bag as he smiled “Thank you cariño, but you didn’t have to do this”

“Of course I did! You’ve done a lot for me! So I wanted to return the favor!” You responded as he pulled you into a hug

“Thank you”

“No problem at all”

[devilfic]

GMMMMM!!!!! I was hoping you could write a battinson x reader about their wedding? Maybe something just super soft and fluffy, WE LACK BATTINSON WEDDING CONTENT

❝wedding headcanons with bruce wayne❞

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: fluff, established relationship, marriage, mention of alcohol. words: 2k.

oh ABSOLUTELY

alright, walk with me

I’m imagining that bruce is a bit older if he’s getting married because. let’s be honest. getting this man to settle down right now would be like wrangling a hellhound

not because he doesn’t fantasize about it. trust me, he has, but you really are in a polygamous relationship with gotham during your first few years together LMAO

I think bruce had an idea of what his wedding would be like when he was younger

probably a small, traditional wedding. something that his parents had

but at some point, when bruce becomes conscious of his position in society (and just how many people are gonna wanna come to this thing), he figures out it’s probably gonna be a big deal

bruce... does not like that

I don’t think that he has a problem with a big wedding, but he does know if he has one, he’s going to have to adhere to the social rules of the upper echelon

and that means inviting people he doesn’t particularly Like

again, he does not like that

but the thing abt these social rules is that if you tell him you’re not comfortable, if you tell him you don’t like someone, if you tell him you don’t want someone there, he won’t give a FUCK about their feelings

bruce does not care about the fanfare. this day is for you and him as far as he’s concerned

this is also why I think during the planning stage he’d be the kind of husband to just hand you his wallet and tell you to go ape shit

but he’s not that kind of guy. he isn’t some disinterested husband just pawning off all the hard work onto you because he doesn’t want to do anything

it’s like I said, he only cares about you

if you want to go great gatsby and throw the party of the year? go crazy!

if you want something on an island beach? he’ll bring sunglasses!

if you want to walk up to the courthouse, pay for your marriage license, and take him to bed right after? do you, babey. or him. in this case

I think the only thing bruce would have any strong feelings about is the color scheme

I’m sorry, you know he’s going to want a lot of dark, gothic elements

he will feel so out of place if you guys did anything outside of his color palette LMAO

he’s not afraid of getting fancy, he just needs things to be on Brand

that being said, I think he would really like if you had the wedding in a cathedral

I mean the acoustics with a choir singing as you walk down the aisle would just be heavenly

I’m just picturing the cathedral in the movie with white roses and ivy everywhere!! the sun streaming in through the windows!!! the choir on either side of the altar singing so beautifully while bruce watches you approach that he can’t help but start crying!!! ahhhhH!!!

I also saw a couple do this and thought it was really sweet

so instead of doing the whole not seeing each other before the wedding thing, the couple dressed each other the day of

just imagining the intimacy of slowly waking up the morning of the wedding in bed with bruce, letting him stroke your back as you lay on his chest

you’re both a little nervous but all that comes out in giggles and silly jokes to calm each other down

then taking a shower together, washing bruce’s hair for him, getting distracted because he starts kissing down your back and oh how time flies

sharing breakfast that you both made in your underwear because alfred took dick and left you two the house for the weekend because I’d also like to imagine that at this point, robin is part of the family

(and is enjoying his weekend with grandpa alfred. and definitely hasn’t learned any alarming offensive tactics since he’s been away)

bruce putting on a record and dancing with you in the living room to “practice” for later

helping each other into your clothes, brushing hair out of the way and reminding the other where they left their shoes/earrings/cologne

bruce driving you to the cathedral and only parting ways so that you can hurry in the back door because the front is PACKED with paparazzi

alfred is bruce’s best man and is just smug as a bastard when he notices bruce’s little ticks that he’s starting to get nervous

dick is the ringbearer because of COURSE he is

I just love the idea of little dick grayson whispering “I got your six, batman 😎” when he comes up to the altar and bruce has to cough over him because there are like. several people in the vicinity that do not! know that!

he’s got his hair gelled back to high heaven with a cute little suit on that he definitely wasn’t bribed to wear by alfred that morning

I also don’t think dressing you before the wedding diminishes the impact of seeing you walk down the aisle

I think that your morning together would only solidify just how many mornings you two would have from now on, and it would make him emotional knowing that this is just the beginning?? that he can actually call you his in a whole new way???

bruce’s vows... he’s so emotional about them.

he’s asked for help from literally everyone he knows, especially selina because she has such a way with words

vows are kinda tricky for bruce because to him, he wants to just be saying this to you. he doesn’t want to entertain anyone else

how is he supposed to summarize how deeply you move him—how eternally bound he is to you in body and soul—in a way that doesn’t feel like he’s putting on a show for the audience? he doesn’t care about any of that. all he cares about is you

he keeps falling into the trap of “they know how much I love them, don’t they?”

but one thing selina tells him to do is just try writing for you, then

just sit down and word vomit. even if it’s silly, even if you already know it, even if it’s embarrassing

and one night he finds you asleep in bed with a book on your chest, clearly having fallen asleep on accident with just the lamplight illuminating you

at first, he drops into the chair beside the bed and just sits and watches you for a few moments. your book rising and falling with every breath, your body half snuggled into the sheets, the little noises you make as you dream

but then his eyes start welling up and it’s like. all those words just come flowing out of him

he grabs his journal and is frantically writing everything down, not worried about making sense. he just wants to say what he’s thinking before it escapes him

maybe at some point, you wake up to find him furiously jotting everything down and you ask what he’s writing about

and he kinda panics because he doesn’t want you to see exactly what he’s writing

it’s all a mess! it’s ugly! not pretty or articulate or clean at all

and it’s not like he’s never a mess before you. you’ve seen every part of him: the good, the bad, the ugly. you’ve never turned away before

it’s just that sometimes... he hesitates

but before he can think of an excuse, you smile and slip out of bed

lean over him and kiss his forehead

“must be important, I’ll leave you to it. how ‘bout I make us something warm to drink?”

and the hesitation melts away

he doesn’t end up telling you. he closes his journal and tucks it on the nightstand and knows that you would never look, never break his trust like that, but if you saw what he said... he wouldn’t mind

when you come back, you two crawl into bed with warm tea and fall asleep together this time

I like to think that he once met up with selina on a rooftop so he could run his draft by her askjsdkjf

selina is a BRUTAL editor but she’s really good at it

and eventually she approves of his last draft and he’s like. yippee!! I’m free!! worst fucking experience of my life!!!

he’s fiiiiiine selina’s not that mean

but it was hard!!

and when you’re both at that altar and he admits his vows aren’t very long, it’s not a surprise to anyone that bruce “man of few words” wayne struggled with what to say

but that’s not it

because if they really knew bruce, they’d know that no matter how little he says, he means every word.

and there’s this one line that sort of encompasses a promise he’d made to himself long ago and now is making to you. out loud

“you’re a good thing that I don’t think I deserve, but I want to. so I am and will continue to make sure that I am a man that does. for the rest of our life.”

and all those years of never letting himself enjoy a good thing are unspoken between the two of you, your wedding a testament to his change of heart

it’s also just kind of cemented when he says “our life”. you really aren’t getting rid of him, now

NOW THE RECEPTION

I saw this on pinterest and I just. I think it would be so beautiful

a reception in a greenhouse!! surrounded by plants and candlelight!!

at night!!

this would be the more intimate gathering with just family and friends

if I may. be a Twihard for like TWO seconds

consider: flightless bird, american mouth for your first dance

I think it would be so nice... it’s a really pretty song.... ok moving on

I don’t think bruce would be very interested in. um. certain reception traditions but again, man will do whatever you ask him to

if you happen to be wearing garters and want to do a garter toss. I suppose he will participate.

right after sending out a signal that bricks every phone within a 200 mile radius

BUT TOASTS

man is all red in the face from laughing so hard, you’ve never seen him have this much fun with more than two people in the room

the toast is a lot less put together when it’s his turn, I think bruce is just so full of love and comfort being surrounded by people he knows well that he has an easier go of it

he doesn’t drink since he’s not a fan of alcohol, but you know he’s fuckin up a bottle of sparkling cider

if you choose to drink, he will be happy to escort you throughout the night

can see drunk you asking him to help you into a bathroom stall and he’s just standing there in the doorway making sure you don’t slip and fall into the toilet

at some point though, he WILL replace ur drinks with shirley temples

he’s not trying to cramp ur style but like. alfred will take a picture if you vomit and he will put it in the family photo album and show it every year on your anniversary and if you try to destroy it you will find he has made an infinite number of copies

by the end of the night, you’re both back at home helping each other out of your clothes in the same lazy way as you did the morning of the wedding

brushing your teeth together in the sink, washing each other’s faces, slipping into more comfortable clothes

by the time you both collapse into bed, bruce is so full of. love! and light. he’s still got a smile on his face that he’s had since the beginning of the night and it’s so different

you’ll crawl onto his chest and ask him if he’s happy, if he got everything he could have wanted out of today

he’ll press a kiss to your minty lips, still smiling like a fool, “I got to marry you, didn’t I?”

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: an earlier update because i got some good news so you guys get good news as well xx

masterlist

i'd like to hang out with you for my whole life

Y/N was sure she was gonna lose her driving license the moment the police ran the plates based on how many accidents she'd almost gotten into and how many speeding limits she'd crossed, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter that she was gonna lose her license because she was also gonna lose her freedom as Y/N was very close to murdering the receptionist of the paediatrics department if she told her once more she couldn't tell her anything. She sighed angrily once more before continuing on to try and argue her soul about why she should know more about Sadie. What were all the years of debate club presidency if she couldn't argue with a receptionist?

      - What's going on? - Bucky came from the entry, joining Y/N and looking equally frazzled.

      - They won't tell us anything about Sadie. - Y/N pointed at the nurse in a way that reminded her of the way her mother used to argue with the baker whenever he tried to swindle her with stale bread.

      - What do you mean? - now he turned to the nurse and God bless her, because upsetting Bucky was not something someone should ever want. - She's our kid, since when do your staff keep us in the goddamn dark?

      - The doctor is still running some tests and when we have any news we'll let you know. As I've told your wife, please take a seat and we will let you know.

Bucky punched the desk a bit before grabbing Y/N and leading her towards the waiting area. Y/N crossed her arms, her gaze burning the receptionist as she wondered if when she was distracted she could steal and break her mug. Sadie is two, how come they're doing anything to her without talking to Bucky, the father, the parent. Bucky, himself, was shaking which stole her attention from the hellish receptionist.

      - Hey, what's going on? - she put her hand on his arm, hoping it would calm him down.

      - I don't like hospitals. - he looked up at the ceiling. - Reminds me of when they I lost my arm. I don't like it.

      - Uhm ... - she tried to distract him, looking around before she noticed Sadie's toy box. He'd brought the toy box. - Buck, is that Sadie's toy box?

      - Yes.

      - I said bring her cuddly toy not every single one she ever had. - how had he even managed to carry that so effortlessly? She'd once got her shirt stuck under it and it took her a while to get it off. It was a handmade wooden box Bucky had made for her with little flowers and her name carved in.

      - Well, Sadie sleeps with Bingo which is her favourite but what if she has a new favourite or her favourite needs a friend?

      - Point taken. - she shrugged. - You know, what's the point of me even studying and paying Columbia if they won't tell Columbia students anything?

      - I'm gonna make a call. Look after the toy box.

Y/N didn't like hospitals too much either, specially paediatrician aisles. It saddened herself and sometimes it gave her baby fever which was never good. Bucky yapped in the phone for a few seconds and as he was about to sit down, a doctor came through the doors and walked in their direction.

      - Sergeant Barnes. - he extended his hand to shake Bucky's. - I am so sorry, I didn't know you were here.

      - How's Sadie? We tried speaking to your receptionist but she wouldn't tell us anything.

      - I will absolutely check on your girl and I'll let you know. Give me five minutes.

The doctor left and Bucky sat down looking visibly upset once more. Y/N didn't know what to do or how to comfort him but she could distract him.

      - You could rule the world with your little phone there.

      - I know some people.

      - Honestly, can you call someone and make me pass my PhD?

      - Maybe I can sleep with Professor Anderson. - he said getting a chuckle out of Y/N for the first time since they fought. - She has a cute ass, I could do it.

      - She has a husband.

      - Married ladies, my favourite. - he joked before settling down, looking at the wall in front of him. - That's Doctor Tinsdale, he's on the board and he's ... Anna's dad.

      - Anna, your Anna?

      - Yeah. He doesn't know Anna's the mother. Not that it would matter anyway. - he shrugged. - Anna used to say she had a brother in New Haven she barely saw. Anyway, he can get information.

Y/N didn't say anything, instead leaning her head against his shoulder, her hand holding his until the doctor came back holding a medical board. Y/N got up, pulling Bucky up with her as he walked towards them.

      - So, the school guessed appendicitis and they were right. Because Sadie is so young and the risk of perforation is so high, we're wheeling her in for an appendectomy. You should be able to see her in an hour.

      - Can we see her before she goes into surgery?

      - She's already in surgery, Sergeant Barnes. Why don't you and your wife go and get some food and some coffee? I promise you, I'll tell you the second she's out of the block. She's with our best surgeons, she will be taken care of until you can see her.

Y/N nodded still holding Bucky's hand. At least the school had taken action and Sadie was going to be fine and see the two of them when she woke up. Until then, Y/N and Bucky were stuck with lovingly awful hospital cafeteria food. It was some kind of stew served with a bowl of carrot and squash soup. The two sat down in a table looking at the food with disgust.

      - Do you want some salt?

      - Hm? - Bucky looked up at Y/N.

      - Salt. I have salt.

      - How do you have salt?

      - I carry salt in my purse. They're always out at Columbia so I usually have some and you know how unflavoured and unsalted hospital food is. - she shrugged rummaging through her purse. - What are you thinking about?

      - Hm?

      - Earth to James Barnes. - she waved her hand in front of his face. - Hey what's on your mind?

      - Nothing's on my mind. - he went back to his soup, tasting it before grunting and putting the spoon back. He'd rather go hungry for the remaining of his time here.

      - C'mon, the TV has no sound and we have crappy food. We need entertainment so tell me what are you thinking about?

      - I'm thinking about Anna. - he finally said, looking at her as if he expected her to say the exact same things Steve said. He just stayed there, waiting to hear an earful, but she instead placed her hand over his. He looked at her for a few seconds before pulling his hand away, clearing his throat and getting up from his chair. - I'm gonna get some cake. You want some?

      - Huh ... sure. - she smiled, stretching the corner of her lips in a comprehensive smile. - Hey ... can I use your phone? Mine is out of charge and I need to make a call.

      - Sure. - he fished the phone from his trousers' pocket and handed it to her before going to grab themselves some cake or something with a bit of flavour.

(...)

A few hours passed down and Y/N had fallen asleep horizontally in the line of seats next to Bucky. He'd placed his jacket over her, himself also slightly between the states of awake and asleep. All Bucky could do was stare at the lights on the ceiling, the blinding yellow light reminding him of things he didn't wish to be reminded off.

      - Don't think about that. - a voice surprised him as he turned to the side, seeing who he least expected. - It's was in Switzerland for starters, not here.

      - Anna. - he got up staring at the woman in front of him. - What are you doing here?

      - Seems like you need some company. Shall we get some coffee?

Bucky looked at Y/N and Anna read his mind.

      - Let her sleep. It'll be quick.

He took a last look at Y/N before following Anna back to the cafeteria. He followed her with a mix of both confusion and distrust. He didn't know why she was here, maybe Steve told her since they're apparently such great friends. Judas. She sat down on a small table, it was blatant she was still wearing her work clothes - those matching suits which now only annoyed him.

      - Were you gonna tell me Sadie was in the hospital?

      - I'm sorry, I must've forgotten to call the woman who is not her parent.

      - What if she needed something from me?

      - I have my ways. What are you doing here, Anna? Steve call you since you two are so close?

      - Nice to know you're still hateful. Is that what you're gonna teach Sadie?

      - Absolutely and then we'll have daddy-daughter hate sessions. - he said sarcastically. How dare she act all upset when she hadn't been here before.

      - I'm actually here for you, Jimmy.

Jimmy. Bucky hated being called Jimmy and out of everyone, it was only Anna who did it. He used to put up with him because he used to believe she was a good person. Not anymore. He didn't even understand why she was here. To make his life a living hell probably.

      - You look like shit. - she said putting a bag on the table. - When was the last time you actually ate?

      - Gee, Anna, I don't know. I've been too busy worrying about my daughter's well being to eat.

      - I thought maybe it was because you were distracted with the girl on your lap just a few minutes ago. Steve said she was a postdoc, how did you trick someone smart into sleeping with you?

      - She's not sleeping with me.

      - Why not? She's cute. You have my blessing.

      - I don't need your blessing, Anna.

      - Hey, I'm sorry, James. I'm sorry I am not the mother you want me to be, I'm sorry I left Sadie by your door, I'm sorry. - she got up from her seat. - Just because I'm not cut out to be a mother, doesn't mean I don't care about you. C'mon, we've known each other since we were 7.

      - My daughter comes first, Anna, and you hurt her. When you hurt my kid, you hurt me.

      - Tell my dad I said hi. - she grabbed her jacket. - Eat something and brush your hair or the staff will think you kidnapped that girl.

      - Don't forget your bag.

      - It's for you. Looks like you need it. - she waved him goodbye, leaving him to stare at a white label-less bag and a terrible cup of coffee.

The day couldn't get any worse. He had his shitty cup of coffee and grabbed the bag which had a bottle of whiskey. Well, at least Anna knew that she needed to give him alcohol whenever she came. As he started to make his way down the stairs to join a sleeping Y/N, his phone started ringing like crazy.

      - Bucky, Sadie is out of surgery. Where are you? - Y/N's voice came through before he even had the time to say Hello.

      - Y/N? How are you calling me? I thought your phone was out of ch ...

      - Seriously? That's what you're gonna ask? If your daughter wakes up and you're not there so help me god Bucky Barnes you'll be lucky you're in a hospital because I'll kill you with my own hands.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @fedeffy

[princesuna]

suna tries his best to avoid interacting with strangers at all costs. if the cashier forgot to give him his favorite sauce for his chicken nuggets? plain nuggets are actually delicious. if the barista accidently gave him hot coffee instead of iced? a hot drink in the scorching heat suddenly becomes refreshing. he can’t find chuppets in the store? he wasn’t really craving them anyways. it’s just not worth the energy. besides, he has friends like the twins and kita to do that kinda thing for him if it was really bothering him.

that is, until he met you.

you ask suna, your boyfriend, to accompany you to shop at an asian grocery store. he was about to refuse since he typically becomes your personal pack mule during these kinds of outings. he has to follow you around and carry stuff? on a weekend? you must be out of your mind. however, you promise to treat him to lunch and start giving him that look in your beautiful eyes that he simply can’t resist. to be honest, you’re his ultimate weakness and even though you said you were going to treat him, he would’ve paid for it in the end.

because it’s you.

you’re in the grocery store and are able to find most of the things you want to cook for the next week except for one thing: dashi stock. you’ve walked around the place many times and looped through several aisles and fail to find it. you figure it HAS to be in the store because what asian store wouldn’t have this staple ingredient? but your eyes cannot locate it. you start to get anxious because suna is carrying your things and you feel bad having him walk for so long.

suna watches as you grow increasingly frustrated. you start to get a bit upset, but you try your best to hide it. despite your attempts, he can tell this whole situation is stressing you out, so he leaves your side to find a worker. you notice him walking away and quicken your steps to catch up to him.

“rin, where are you going?” you ask.

“to ask a worker where we can find the dashi stock,” he replies simply.

“no! it’s okay. it’s not important anyways,” you say grabbing his arm trying to stop him.

“how are you gonna tell me it’s not important when you took like seven laps around this store? don’t worry, love, we’ll find it,” he replies giving you a gentle smile.

you manage to calm down and his words reassure you. he asks the worker where he can find the dashi stock, but to his dismay, the worker didn’t know and it almost hurts him to tell you this because he never wants to see you sad. while you are feeling defeated, you decide to check the sauce aisle one more time. logically speaking, that is where it would be located. you slowly make your way through the aisle scanning the shelves for it. you’re about to tell suna that you give up and want to go home as you reach the end of the aisle when he suddenly speaks up, but not to you.

“hey, do you guys know where we can find dashi stock?” suna asks the other couple in the aisle.

“oh, it should be right here. it’s on the very bottom shelf so it might be a bit hard to see,” the man replies pointing down.

he thanks the man and grabs the box. he heads over to you and you have this stunned look on your face. he wants to laugh at how cute you look. you just can’t believe he would do something like that. suna has always did the most to avoid interacting with strangers. this is so out of character for him.

“if you want something, you have to ask,” he says while tapping the box on your head.

“that’s rich coming from you,” you scoff.

suna laughs at the comment. you’re not wrong. he’s not sure why he was so determined to find the dashi stock for you. if he was with osamu, he would’ve convinced him to give up and go home. but you’re not osamu. you’re you, someone he cherishes dearly. when he sees how brightly you smile and how energetically you walk, he realizes he would go through hell and back if it meant keeping you happy. suna would overcome anything for you.

while you’re his weakness, you are also the one that gives him strength.

[yoongiseesawmp3]

oh he’s good - san (m)

part of the church boy series.

summary: san, a non-believer, has one of the best voices in the church choir, and maybe one of the best voices in the world. fresh off a break up, you’re not looking for anything serious, and he isn’t either... but someone definitely falls faster and harder than they should.

word count: 11.4k (i am so sorry)

warnings: smut!!! some talk abt god n stuff. alcohol use. swearing? 

your relationship with church is...complicated, to say the least. you’re one of those kids that grew up going and never had the chance to make the decision yourself if you actually “believed” or not, so here you are as an adult, still going to church...just because? 

because it’s comfortable and familiar, maybe, and that might be why you find yourself at church this sunday after the worst breakup of your life. you weren’t ready for forever with your ex, but it wasn’t off the table on your end. they had other plans, though, and after a few rocky months you came home the other day to an empty apartment. great way to start the summer, huh? 

anyway, you came to church thinking you could surprise your family with the unannounced visit, but the one day you’re sitting in the usual pew is the one day your family decides to sleep in. at least you’ve got the whole pew to yourself, so you can doodle and no one will elbow you to stop or give you a side eye for not paying full attention to the service. 

the organ music starts and you’ve got your bulletin in your lap, skimming through to see what’s been happening since you’ve been gone. the choir starts to file in, and you watch the swoosh of purple robes as they make their way to the choir loft. there’s a lot more people in the choir than you remember, so many that they have to walk doubled up down the aisle instead of single file. that has the robes dangerously close to swiping the lip gloss right off your mouth, and one clumsy singer trips ever so slightly at the pew behind yours. they grab onto the back of your pew to balance themselves, pulling your hair in the process, and you yelp in surprise. a hushed “shit, sorry, so sorry!” meets your ears, and you look up to find the sharpest features staring back at you. the man above you has stilled slightly, holding up the line, but his eyes are reading concerned and he mouths “you ok?” to which you nod. he gives you a quick once over before he nods back and continues the procession down the aisle, but you don’t miss the way he turns to make sure you’re still watching him as he walks away. 

you try to make it less obvious that, yes, you are staring straight at him, but the way his eyes have been locked on yours since he sat down makes that difficult. you can’t even play it off like you’re looking at the pastor because the hair puller is over near the piano and nowhere near the pulpit. speaking of the pastor, as he greets everyone, your mystery man nods in his direction, as if to say “you should pay attention to this.” you just smile to yourself as you take another moment to stare into his shining eyes, and then your attention is where it needs to be.

except, you know that feeling of somebody definitely watching you? that lingers as you try to listen to the announcements the pastor is sharing, and you can’t help but feel the warmth of someone’s eyes committing your face to memory. your eyes flit back over to mr. sly smile, and he outright grins when you catch him locked in on you and you only. now it’s your turn to point your head in the direction of the big man (er, the big man’s mouthpiece, technically, sorry god) and your choir boy has the audacity to laugh! in church! at something other than a lame joke made by a parishioner! how dare he. 

you would keep this inner monologue going in your head but the pastor motioning for the choir snaps you out of it, mostly because your target suddenly isn’t where he was a second ago. instead he’s walking down to the lectern, music book in hand, and smiling a million dollar smile at the congregation. the music slowly begins as he settles at the lectern, and you watch intently as he places his book down and adjusts the mic for what must be his upcoming solo. the song starts with the makeshift orchestra tucked away in the choir loft, and choir boy takes a deep breath before he begins to sing in the most honey-coated voice you’ve ever heard. there are no words except beautiful, warm and welcoming for his voice, and you’re sad when his solo is over too soon for your liking. you snap out of the trance his voice put you in and notice he’s, yep, still staring right at you. 

the next part of the service goes about the same, cute church boy staring into your sinner’s soul as you doodle and try to ignore him until you can’t take it anymore and risk a glance up at his fierce gaze. you know this is some form of weird church flirting, but you have to remind yourself not to get too excited about it. you’re still healing from your breakup and don’t need a crush, so you do your best to snap out of it before the pastor prays you out and everyone leaves. hopefully you can slip out unnoticed by anybody and be on your merry little way to annoy your family for not coming to church today.

unfortunately for you, you forgot that in the last service the choir gets to either leave after the offering (since they’ve been there all morning) or they can join their loved ones in the pews. and guess who’s sitting in the only completely empty row in the entire sanctuary? you. and guess who decides that this is the perfect spot to spread out and glance your way from a way shorter distance? choir boy. so now you have to sit through an entire sermon with his eyes glancing dangerously up and down your body. you grip tighter on the nub of a pencil you found in the attendance pad, and continue sketching the best possible flower meadow you can muster.

as a kid, you would get these little activity books each sunday that tied into what the sermon was about so that your baby brain could comprehend what the adults were talking about while you sat there, and you think that’s what started your habit of doodling during the message. you’d always rush through the activities as a kid so you could spend the rest of your time coloring to your heart’s content, so now you use the limited skills and resources at your disposal to sketch out a flower meadow that the pastor is using as part of his big metaphor. you don’t notice choir boy beside you leaning over for a sneaky glance at the paper in your lap, and he smiles when he sees you so focused on your little doodles. it inspires him to grab a paper of his own and scratch out a note, which he passes to you. you look up at him and he smiles softly, a little spark of a joke that you’re not in on yet shining in his eyes. he looks down at the note, encouraging you to take it, and your fingertips brush as you pull the note from him. 

“whatcha doin?” it reads, and you scoff quietly. 

“drawing,” you whisper back. “it helps me focus.”

you’re met with silence in response, and a quick look at your new friend shows him stooped over another scrap, writing another note that he passes to you when he’s done. 

“no talking in church!!!!!!!” he warns, with about twenty messy exclamation points. you laugh quietly and see that he’s handing you another note, which reads “i’m san, btw :) what’s your name?”

you take the note from him once again, and write back “y/n” before you hold it up for san to see. he nods after reading it and leans in as he whispers “pretty name. nice to meet you, y/n.”

“no talking in church!!” you whisper back, and you add a harsh, quick “sh!” for good measure. san laughs at you and nods in understanding, pointing his attention back to the front of the sanctuary. but he doesn’t stop glancing your way, watching as you capture your tongue between your lips in concentration as you add a tree to your small meadow scene. san smiles and shakes his head, almost so he can shake away the same thoughts you were just having. he’s still in a weird situationship with his ex/sometimes gf, so he doesn’t need to flirt with you or string you along. something about you, though...he’s hooked, and he knows it. 

- 

the service lets out and you get a text from your mom that she is in fact at church, but she went to the early service and then joined her friend’s sunday school class since she thought no one else from the family was coming today. since you’ve been living on your own for a few months now, you decide to wait for your mom to finish her class so you can say hi before you leave. while you wait you exchange pleasantries with church members you haven’t seen in a while, and you quickly get tired of explaining that no, that nice boy who came to christmas eve services last year is not with you and no, he probably won’t be coming back again. 

after maybe the sixth person rubs salt in your wound, you feel a tap on your shoulder, which is strange considering your mom would most likely just pull you into a hug. you turn expecting to see someone else and you’re met with san, who smiles and waves like he didn’t just get your attention on purpose. he’s lost the purple choir robe and now you can see how buff he is, which is entirely too distracting. he’s wearing a nice white button up (lord help those buttons, they’re struggling) and some dark linen pants, and he looks delectable. you smile at him in return as you try to shut your mind off and keep your eyes from staring at his broad shoulders and tiny waist.

“so, y/n,” he begins. “do you have lunch plans?”

“i’m gonna stop you right there, buckaroo,” you say, placing a hand up for emphasis.

“buckaroo?” san scoffs with a grin. “didn’t know this was a wild west film.”

“i’m being serious,” you warn him. “as much fun as it was not paying attention to the sermon with you, i’m not looking for anything serious, so i’m afraid i can’t be your lunch date.”

“who said anything about being my date?” he asks incredulously. “i was just making small talk. i’m already spoken for, sweet cheeks.”

“how charming,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “does your sweetheart know you flirt with other people when they’re not around?”

“it’s complicated,” san says with a tense smile. “anyway. it was nice to formally meet you, y/n. can’t wait to annoy you another day.”

what did he mean by ‘it’s complicated’ and how complicated could it be if he felt comfortable enough flirting with someone else without a hint of remorse? san might not be the kind of guy you need to get mixed up with, especially not right now, but...it’s tempting. thankfully, you hear the sound of your mom’s laughter from down the hall and you know a welcome distraction is on the way. you can think more about san and his mischievous eyes later.

-

during the week, you have the luxury of picking when you want to go into the office. the other days, you can work from home, or more often than not, you go to the coffeeshop by your new house. it’s quick, it’s convenient, and it’s cheap. it’s also an easy way for you to focus and get a bunch of work done so you usually come here when you want to condense a long day’s work into just a couple hours. 

you’re about three hours deep into work mode when you realize you need another coffee, so you get up from your seat and take your empty mug back up to the front. it’s just about lunch time, so the afternoon rush is slowly starting, and you take a place a few people back in line. you notice what appears to be a couple arguing at the counter (over what, you don’t know) and that’s slowing the line down. they’re definitely fighting though, and you look down at your phone to make it less obvious you’re trying to eavesdrop. finally they get their drinks and the guy turns to leave in such a rush that he grazes your side, almost spilling coffee all over you. you look up, ready to cuss someone out, when you hear a familiar “shit, sorry, i’m sorry” and that’s when you notice it’s none other than san. he makes eye contact with you briefly as the girl next to him tugs on his arm and complains that he “always takes too long,” and you give him a shy wave before focusing back on the line ahead of you. 

-

the following monday, you find yourself back at your favorite table, working away. today should be a short day for you, so you’ve invited a friend to join you and you’re currently gossiping over his coworker that claims he went on vacation to greece but it was actually a lie to make him look cool.

“yeah, so when i went into his office, right,” your friend yeosang begins. “he told me he had gifts for everybody, so i went to look at what he brought, and first of all, he had a jar of olives on his desk that i KNOW is from whole foods, and THEN he tried to tell us that the ‘pita bread’ he brought back must have been smushed in his suitcase but actually i think they were just tortillas.”

“why would he do that?” you laugh, taking a sip of your quickly cooling coffee. the only bad thing about inviting yeosang is that you tend to get too wrapped up in the conversation and you always let your coffee go cold. as you take another sip you notice another couple talking animatedly about something, just a few tables behind you. yeosang hears it too and you both stop your conversation to listen in. 

“i don’t know why you keep trying to control me,” a woman’s voice begins. “it’s not like you’re fully committed to this relationship either.”

“yeah, but i don’t hang all over other girls and embarrass you in front of everyone you know,” the guy responds, and your ears perk up at the sound. “he’s one of my best friends and you almost ruined his relationship too!”

“oh so i ruin relationships now? that’s what this is?” she asks. “san, i never knew when this turned into a relationship. i thought this was something fun, something casual, but you’re the one making it into something it’s not.”

san. she said san, didn’t she? you try to peek around yeosang, but he just turns with you to glance at the poor couple fighting loud enough for the whole cafe to hear. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that,” he says, and now that you’re listening for his voice it definitely sounds like the san you met last weekend. you see the girl stand up, lean over the table, and tell him something you can’t hear, and then she storms away. poor san is left by himself for a moment before he jolts up and follows her, clumsily knocking into yeosang’s chair as he passes by. he starts to apologize when he catches your eye, and you just watch quietly as he leaves without a word. 

-

the week after you attended church alone, you purposefully made plans so you wouldn’t have to go that following sunday. but you slipped up talking to your mom and now she expects you to be there this coming weekend, and after what you saw at the coffeehouse you almost want to go just to see how san’s doing.

not in a check in on him type of way, though. you mostly wanna go to see what kind of train wreck has been left in the aftermath. i mean, if you got broken up with publicly? you’d probably crawl into a hole and start the hibernation process. but no, as you accompany your mom into church the next sunday, you see san’s shock of black hair towering above the old ladies of the choir and he seems just fine. you avert your eyes before he can turn and meet your gaze, and you follow your mom quickly to your seats. 

the service goes along as usual, only this time no cute choir boy accidentally pulls your hair or decides to sit right next to you in your still (surprisingly) empty pew. he does, however, stare at you every chance he gets. once he sits down, he stares. he stands up to sing (no solo this week) and instead of looking at his music book, he’s staring right at you. again, it’s the last service of the day so the choir gets to sit in the congregation or leave, and san holds eye contact with you the entire time he walks down the main aisle. you don’t turn to see where he goes though, because that would put your mom on your tail, so you just settle back into your seat and prepare for a long winded sermon. 

after the service, you think you’re in the clear because you didn’t spot san in the sanctuary, but as soon as you and your mom enter the narthex you feel a tap on your shoulder, eerily similar to the one you felt just a couple weeks ago. you turn, and sure enough, there’s san standing and smiling at you once again. 

“hi san,” you say with fake cheer. “choir sounded great today.”

“oh, yes, it did!” your mom coos, suddenly interested in this conversation rather than the one where she was gossiping with her friend about the pastor’s wife. “san, is it?”

“yes ma’am,” he nods politely. “and thank you, y/n. i appreciate that.”

“how do you two know each other?” your mom prys, and you open your mouth to speak but san beats you to it. 

“actually, i scouted y/n a couple weeks ago,” he begins. “we’ve been trying to start up a young adult ministry for a while now, but there’s never enough people interested.” then he turns fully to you. “so i was wondering if you’d be up for a bible study? with other people our age. we’d meet outside the church, at a restaurant or someone’s house, whatever we feel like that week. it should be fun.”

“a bible study?” you repeat, and he simply nods, blinking back at you as if to convey a message in morse code. 

“that would be wonderful!” your mom replies. “i’ve been trying to get y/n into a study for years, this would be perfect.”

“great!” san says happily, matching your mom’s energy. “what do you think, y/n? we meet on thursdays, i can send you the details and you can decide later on if you want to come.”

“that’s fine,” you agree, and your mom, proud, walks off to go tell her friend you’re finally coming back to jesus. now that you’re alone though, san continues. 

“so i’ll need your number to send you the details,” he says with a suggestive smirk, and you groan. 

“i knew you were up to something,” you sigh. “i don’t even wanna go, i hate bible studies.”

“trust me, you’ll like this one,” he says, holding his hand out. “now fork it over, sweetcheeks. let me put my number in.”

“fine,” you gripe. “don’t waste your time naming yourself something special, i’ll just change it to choi san when you’re done.” 

“what’s the fun in that?” he asks, passing your phone back to you. the contact card is still up, and he’s named himself “the golden voice of god.”

“humble, aren’t we?” you tease, and he smiles.

“i’ll see you on thursday,” he replies, but you protest weakly as he walks away. “i can even pick you up, if you want!” and then he’s gone. 

-

so. it’s thursday night. you weren’t planning on going to the bible study, but san has been bugging you all day with texts trying to convince you to come. and when his initial tactic of “well i’m gonna be there, why don’t you wanna be there?” didn’t work, then he started luring you with food. whoever is hosting tonight is apparently rich, and they got one of your favorite restaurants to cater the freaking bible study. who does that?? so that’s the only reason you’re considering it. seriously. no other reason. at all.

now, if you were to ask why is san picking you up, well, that answer is more simple. because you wanted him to. despite your desire to stay away from anyone who could further break your heart, you’re intrigued by this man. a small part of you wants to get to know him, and that part of you won tonight. 

so that’s how you ended up texting san at the last minute that you want to come, and he responds almost immediately with “great :) what’s ur address?”

a little while later, san pulls up in the most mom car you’ve ever seen. it’s better suited for a family of six, not a single dude in his 20s. you almost want to laugh when he gets out to open your door, and not just because the door sticks and he makes cute noises while he tries to yank it open. it makes you wanna laugh because this insight into his life is why you’re here. he doesn’t seem real to you, but this car and its ugliness is very real. his smile and the way it lights up for you seems real. whatever is pulling you toward him even though you should go the opposite direction, that’s also very real. so here you are, in his front seat, going to bible study for some good food and hopefully some answers. 

except, you pull up and it doesn’t look like bible study at all. there’s a shit ton of cars in the driveway and wrapped around the house, and as san parks you hear music coming out of the slightly open front door. 

“ok, a few questions,” you say after letting san get your door once again. “first of all, i thought we were going to bible study. second of all, i thought you said there weren’t enough young adults to start a ministry. this house has enough cars to pack the sanctuary on easter sunday.’

“neither of those were questions,” san astutely points out. “you wanna try again?”

“yeah, what the hell are we doing here?” 

“ooo, baby used the h word at bible study,” he gasps, and you whine “but this is obviously not bible study!” to which san responds, “you’re right, it’s not. well, not technically. see, the group of young ‘leaders’ they asked to coordinate this group is actually myself and a few other non-believers who just so happen to be the best actors of the century, so everyone falls for it when we act all holy, but in reality, me and the other ‘leaders’ couldn’t give a rat’s ass about bible study or hymns or all that.”

before san’s rant, he started walking you toward the party house in front of you. and the more he revealed, the slower your steps became. when he finished, you were completely stopped, mouth agape and eyes in disbelief. san turns to find out why you’ve stopped, and he lets out a full chested laugh when he sees you in such shock.

“what, did you fall for it too?”

“YES?” you reply. “oh my god? so you’re telling me you started a bible study as a front for throwing parties, and you’re also an atheist? why do you sing in the choir then?!”

“i need the practice,” he says with a shrug. “i still want to be a singer, deep down. and it makes me feel good to get my little choir bonus because it makes me feel like i’m getting paid to sing, which is what i’ve always wanted. church is just the only place i can do that with pretty low effort. plus it makes my parents happy.”

“i’m sorry, i’m still having a hard time processing all of this,” you say. “golden boy san isn’t as golden as he seems? who knew.”

“right?” he smiles. “i’m just full of surprises. now, shall we go in?”

-

yeah, this absolutely is not a bible study. but san wasn’t lying when he said the mysterious owner of this house was getting food catered. you walk inside and instantly you’re met with the smell of your favorite greek restaurant, noticing all of the food piled onto the dining room table, tucked away from all of the mischief happening in the rest of the house. you start picking at the pita and hummus when san appears next to you, honestly you forgot he was still nearby. 

“so obviously,” he begins, “food’s in here, drinks are in the kitchen, party is in the living room and upstairs-” this is said with a suggestive wink, “and then if it gets to be too much for you, there’s a bonfire going outside.”

“who said this would be too much for me?” you ask, sucking an olive into your mouth with a pop. san laughs and shakes his head. 

“i’m gonna go get a drink, what do you want?”

“i’ll come with you,” you reply, following him like a lost puppy. you’re now realizing you don’t know many people here, so whether you like it or not, you might be spending a lot of time with san tonight. 

he shows you all the alcohol options (this is still so shocking, these are all church kids?) and you ask him to make you something with vodka. he makes you some concoction that he swears is delicious, and when you take a sip it’s so strong it makes your nose hairs feel like they’re burning away.

“you trying to get me wasted, san?” you jokingly ask, and his eyes go wide.

“no, oh my god, sorry,” he replies, reaching for your drink but you swat him away. “what? i’ll make you a new one and take that one, i’m so sorry.”

“no, you still have to drive later, mr. mini van,” you tease. “i was just messing with you. i can handle this atomic sludge that you decided to serve me, but don’t judge if i make a face or two after each sip.”

“oh i will if they make you look funny,” he quips back and you can’t help but laugh at the glee in his voice. 

“noted,” you mumble as you take another sip, and you wince when the drink burns going down. you risk a glance back at san and he just smiles and mimics taking a photo, and you realize that being around him might make this a long night. 

after san makes himself a less toxic drink, you go back to the food and start to  make a plate, but trying to balance your drink and get food is a struggle. san notices and politely takes you drink so you can fix your plate, but he’s giving his commentary over your shoulder the whole time.

“i don’t like olives, why are you getting so many?” he whines. “and put more chicken, that’s not enough for both of us.”

“who said this was for us?” you ask incredulously. “get your own plate.”

“i’m a little busy babe,” he says, holding up both drinks. “so add more chicken for me?” he says with a pout. “pretty please?”

“ugh, fine,” you sigh. “tell me when to stop.” you add another scoop, and look to san but his eyes tell you to keep going. you go for another, and he continues watching expectantly. “do you want me to just make you a plate?”

“no, i want us to share,” he pouts again. “just a little more though.”

“did you not eat today or something,” you mumble as you add as much food as the plate will handle.

“no actually,” he replies. “it was a busy one so i didn’t really have time.”

“san, you can’t do that!” you scold him. “you need to take care of yourself.”

“what if i want you to do it for me?” he asks with a teasing lilt in his voice. you groan in response and confirm that you have enough food before you shoulder your way through some partygoers in search of a place to sit and eat. san follows behind you and looks around, noticing the same time as you that there’s no open space inside. so he leans down to whisper in your ear “maybe we could sit outside?” but his proximity and the way his lips so barely grazed your ear have your heart racing. you watch as san takes the lead now, looking over his shoulder to make sure you’re following, and you hope in the dim light he doesn’t notice your blush. but of course he does, because he turns back around with the smuggest smile on his face. 

you finally make it outside and find plenty of open space, but san insists on the swinging bench by the fire, so you carefully sit and balance the plate between the two of you. the light from the fire illuminates san’s sharp features, and you catch yourself staring as he offers your drink back to you. he quirks his head, almost wanting to ask if you were staring, but instead he just comments on how nice it feels outside, and you quietly agree.

“here,” you say, offering him the plate. “eat your chicken, protein monster.”

“you’re not gonna feed it to me?” he whines, and you have to audibly groan.

“you’re so..”

“what? charming, lovable?” he tries, and you shake your head.

“insufferable,” you finish, and he laughs before taking the plate from you and trying the food. “is it good?”

“yeah, here,” he says, holding a forkful of chicken out to you. now it’s your turn to laugh, because he’s making airplane noises trying to get you to take the food he’s offering. 

“stop it!” you finally manage to say. “nobody’s feeding anybody else! eat like a normal person or i’m taking the plate back. this is really my food, after all.”

“fine with me,” he says after scooping another bite of chicken. “eat your gross olives.” you sit in silence as you make a little pita, hummus, olive taco and san picks at the chicken a little more. after another quiet moment you start to speak.

“do you mind me asking why you didn’t eat today?” san just shrugs and reminds you he was busy. “but still. we got here almost at 8pm, that’s a long time to not eat. did you work today or something?”

“yeah,” san begins to explain. “i’ve been jumping around jobs lately, trying to make more time to take singing seriously, so i’m just in a funk right now i think. i don’t have a set schedule so it’s hard to keep up with everything. been a rough week.”

your mind flashes back to the blow up you watched in the cafe last week, and you wonder if san remembers seeing you there. you wonder if he knows you heard every word of his break up, and you also wonder if it would be wrong to let yourself feel something for him if you’re both so freshly out of relationships. but that’s a problem for another day.

“i know you saw me,” he continues, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “at the cafe? sorry you had to hear that.”

“i’m sorry you had to go through that,” you counter. “break ups are never pretty, especially...like that.”

“yeah, that was a dick move on my part. i knew i wanted to break up with her so i shouldn’t have asked to meet there, but as her parting gift to me she had to do it first and make a scene,” he tries laughing it off. “but i’m fine, in that regard at least. i’m better off without her.”

“cheers to that,” you say, lifting your cup to tap san’s. you gag slightly at the sharp drop in taste from the delicious food to the shitty drink, and san chuckles.

“i didn’t realize i made it that bad.”

“yeah, maybe stick to singing, sweetcheeks.”

“what about you?” he asks, eyes still glued on you. “how’d yours happen?”

“it was easy,” you say with a shrug. “he didn’t love me anymore. years together just over in a couple minutes when i came home and saw him packing his things. not much you can say to stop that.”

“damn,” san whistles. “and i thought i was a dick.”

“you’re not a dick,” you assure him. “neither is my ex, and that’s the hard part. i want him to be a villain, but he’s just some dude trying to live his life now. nothing i can do about that.”

“you could start dating someone super cool and cute and hot and make him jealous though,” san offers, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“nope, if i’m gonna come to bible study every week then you need to keep the flirting to a minimum. we’re both going through shit-”

“we could go through it together-”

“and i think, sweet sweet san, it would be good for us to be on our own for a little while,” you say, patting his shoulder. “just not the right time.”

“wait, go back,” he says, just processing. “you said you’ll come to bible study every week?”

“why not,” you shrug. “this is the first time i’ve enjoyed myself in the name of the lord. plus free food.”

“thanks be to god,” san says, tapping his cup with yours once more. 

-

the next few weeks you find yourself falling into a pattern with san. he picks you up for “bible study” in his mom-mobile, you grab as many snacks and drinks as you can carry, and you go sit outside by the fire. it’s nice, actually, spending time with him like this. he’s mellowed out, still flirting here and there, but you can tell you’re genuinely becoming friends as the weeks go on. you’re getting more comfortable with him, something you notice suddenly when you got a little too drunk too fast and started nodding off as san was explaining why his current part time job was busting his balls. it was also getting colder as the night went on, so you were slowly curling in on yourself to keep the cold out. san notices and grumbles something before he’s clearing the discarded food barrier between you two, and without giving you a chance to protest, he’s pulling you into his side. once he’s settled, you realize it’s not weird or awkward, it’s just...comfortable. and he’s so warm, which you didn’t realize you had mumbled that out to him.

“what’d you say?” he asks with a smile, looking down at your fluttering eyelashes as you nuzzle closer to him to fight the chill.

“said you’re really warm,” you repeat, your face smushed against his shoulder. your eyes are closed, so you don’t see the sweet look san gives you as he speaks next. 

“want me to take you home baby?”

“no,” you shake your head. “’m comfy. don’t move yet.”

“got it,” san laughs, twirling a piece of your hair as he waits for your current situation to click in your mind. it already has, because you stopped yourself from getting caught up in san’s scent a few minutes ago, but you decided to let yourself enjoy this moment. but san’s searing gaze is starting to get to you, and you crack an eye open to glare at him.

“stop looking at me like that,” you warn him.

“like what?” he counters. “your eyes were closed! how could you tell i was looking at you?”

“just knew,” you shrugged. “and you’re defensive, so i was right.”

“what, a friend can’t appreciate another friend’s beauty?” 

“no, we can’t,” you respond. “and stop playing with my hair, i’m really gonna fall asleep if you do that.”

“sorry,” he says, stopping immediately. “but can i still look at you?”

“depends on the look,” you say warily.

“alright, you tell me then,” he says quietly, glancing from your eyes down to your lips. “is this ok?” you nod, and he scoots closer, placing a hand on your thigh. “how about this?”

“that’s ok,” you agree, voice suddenly hiding from you. you clear your throat before you say again, “that’s fine, yeah.”

“but this would be too much, right?” san asks, cupping your cheek next. you shake your head no, and he quirks an eyebrow in questioning.

“it’s not too much,” you assure him, his thumb stroking your cheek as you speak. “feels nice cause i’m still cold.”

“maybe we should warm you up then?” he asks, another question in his eyes. you know what he wants to ask and you simply nod then lean in to meet his lips. 

let’s say you haven’t kissed a lot of people, but you’ve kissed enough to definitely know what it feels like. or so you thought. this kiss with san is like nothing else. when people say they feel a spark between them and someone else, this kiss is your proof that those sparks are real. suddenly the crisp fall air around you is forgotten, your body slowly warming from your head to your toes. the sparks collect and move from your lips to your waist where san has a steady grip on you. then the sparks move to your neck as san mumbles something about going home, and you quickly pull him back to your lips, wanting to stay in this moment longer. he tries pulling away once more and you finally let him go, whimpering when your lips disconnect. the sound just about breaks san’s heart, but his internal clock told him it was time to go. he needed to be up in a couple hours for work, and he’s afraid he wouldn’t sleep at all if he didn’t take you back to your apartment right now. he explains all this to you, and you just nod, cheeks still warm and getting ever warmer as he helps you up, arm wrapping around you as you walk together back to his car with san leaving a kiss on the top of your head before you separate. 

-

you know you shouldn’t be falling for choi san, but you sure as hell like being around him. you like kissing him too, which is something you both do frequently now without really discussing the consequences. that’s what you’re doing now, actually. san came by to take you to bible study like usual and instead of just texting that he was here, he came to your door and asked if he could come inside. he claims he needed to throw away some old coffee cups so you wouldn’t think he’s a gross pig, but in reality he just wanted to see your space. picture you in someplace other than the church or outside by the fire when his mind wanders and daydreams about you at work, or worse, when he’s singing. he’s caught himself humming love songs lately, and he’s scared and excited by the fact that each one reminds him of you.

you let him in warily, telling him you wanna get drunk tonight and he’s killing the vibe, but he just takes his time noticing all the little details of your home. noticing you. he notes the type of coffee on the counter and tucks that away for another time, and he notes that you have a bowl piled high with peaches and there’s about ten other peach scented things scattered around. that explains why you always smell so sweet. speaking of sweet, your voice as sweet as honey pulls him from his thoughts.

“san, cmon, let’s go,” you whine. “someone’s gonna take our spot.”

“oh baby,” he starts off, pulling his eyes away from the stack of books on your coffee table. “haven’t you been outside today? it’s freezing. party’s inside today.”

“ugh,” you groan. “that means more people. y’know, i think you’re the only person i like there.”

“then we’ll just have to find another way to end up by ourselves,” he says, suddenly very close to you. your back bumps into the kitchen counter and you brace yourself as san’s arms drape around you. “or maybe we could have a party of our own, here?” his thumb finds your chin, turning your face up to meet his eyes. he leans in to give you a tentative kiss. then you’re pulling him closer, making sure he can’t leave your grip. you stay like that, kissing slowly, and then san tugs your chin to get your attention. “what do you think, love? here, or bible study?” 

“b-bible study,” you stutter out, heart racing. you need a distraction from the man in front of you and his knowing smirks, his gleaming eyes that make you feel like the only person in the world. you need to get your mind off of him before you do something you shouldn’t. just kissing is fine, right? that’s not crossing too many lines. but what you wanted to do if you had continued making out definitely would’ve crossed a line. and you’re not ready to do that. or are you?

-

you’re not sure if it’s the fact that no one is sitting outside tonight, or maybe you’re just not used to being inside during these parties, but there’s a lot of people here. it’s crowded, it’s loud, and you can’t stop thinking about san, so these people are really just background noise to you. san is dragging you through the house, pointing out friends here and there. you meet his friend seonghwa and his girlfriend, who also go to your church. they seem nice, and you wished san would’ve just sat down with them, but he’s pulling you on to another part of the house in search of booze. your little rendezvous at your house made you late, and it looks like all the good stuff is gone. 

“damn,” san mumbles, looking over the sad collection of bottles. “all that’s left is everclear, some fireball, and tequila.”

“god, the tequila, please,” you urge. “if you make me drink fireball we’re never talking again.”

“bad experience with it or just don’t like the taste?” san questions, and you respond, “both.” he nods and laughs, grabbing the unopened bottle of tequila before an idea sparks in his eyes. “you know what we should do?”

“what?” you ask warily, not a fan of the excitement in his voice or the fire in his eyes.

“oh don’t sound so scared,” he teases, grabbing a few more things off the counter. he holds them up to you with a shit-eating grin. “we should take shots the right way.”

he’s showing off a salt shaker and a bowlful of lime wedges, and the joy on san’s face is telling you there’s no way out of this. 

“i wouldn’t say that’s the right way to take shots...”

“cmon y/n, it’ll be fun,” he says, and you listen only because he used your name. usually he calls you some kind of pet name, but this proves how badly he wants to do this. you follow him like a lost puppy as he goes back out to the party, and before you know it you’re following him upstairs. he checks that you’re still behind him, and you quirk your eyebrow at his choice of location.

“less people,” he shrugs. “want you to myself for a minute.”

having you to himself means occupying the only empty room, what looks like an office turned guest room based on the desk shoved in the corner and the small twin bed across from it. doesn’t leave many options for you to sit, so you take up the head of the bed while san situates himself at the foot. he balances everything for the shots carefully on the mattress before checking in with you.

“you good, babe?” 

“why wouldn’t i be?” you reply, and san shrugs. 

“you up for something interesting?” he asks, and suddenly you’re nervous. you’d been trying to repress whatever you’ve been feeling for san lately, but your game plan of going to bible study has led you into one of his easily laid traps. he wants to get you to crack tonight, you can tell. and you’re afraid you might let him, even if you shouldn’t.

“interesting how?” you counter, and san just holds the bottle up with a quirked eyebrow. 

“body shots?”

“you’re joking.”

“only a little.”

“san, no,” you say firmly. “i feel like that would require us taking clothes off, and that’s not very in the name of the holy ghost.”

“i pray to god the holy ghost isn’t in here right now,” san mumbles as he struggles to open the tequila. you grab the single cup he managed to grab and start rimming it with a slice of lime before dashing a bit of salt on top of that. you offer the cup to san so he can pour a shot, which he does with a very heavy hand. “yours or mine?”

“are you driving or am i?” 

“i have a feeling we’ll be here a while, so it may not matter,” he says as he takes the cup from you. he takes it like a champ, only wincing slightly at the end when you pass him a lime wedge. “bleh. still can’t decide if i like these or not.”

“well i do, so gimme the bottle,” you say, but san stops you.

“let me pour it,” he says, starting the shot the same way you did by salting the rim. he pours another heavy shot, passing the drink to you. in the time it takes you to tip your head back and swallow, san has hidden the bowl of limes and he’s very proud of himself for it. he’s got one of his signature smirks on his ridiculously handsome face, and you can tell the bowl of limes is precariously hidden behind his back. 

“c’mon san, lemme chase it,” you whine, and he shakes his head, mumbling something without opening his mouth. “what? use your words, big boy.”

san waits a moment, smile threatening to break across his face, while you’re peeved off sitting across from him. slowly he smiles, revealing the lime held firmly in his mouth. he wiggles his eyebrows at you, waiting for your response.

“you’re joking,” you laugh, leaning forward to grasp at the bowl. “gimme a clean lime!”

“mm-mm!” san grunts, nudging you back in your place. you lose your balance and fall back on the pillows, giving san a chance to box you in below him. he’s hovering over you, lime still taunting you from between his lips, and he tries again. “eh? donchawanit?”

there’s a nanosecond between his poorly enunciated question and the mini-monologue in your head. you try to talk yourself out of it, say this is just a rebound, you shouldn’t dive head first into this when you’re still healing from your breakup, but san keeps moving closer and your eyes flutter at the scent of him and your cheeks warm at the feeling of his hands on your hips. he’s got you wrapped around his finger, so you might as well take the dive. 

you let your lips meet his and your teeth sink into the lime just enough to rid your mouth of the cheap tequila taste. you swoop the lime from san’s mouth and spit it out, not sure where it’ll land, but you don’t care. san has reconnected your lips, ready to kiss you until you can’t feel them anymore. his hands slide under your shirt to caress your skin, and while this isn’t the first time you’ve found yourselves in a position like this (you might have spent too much time in his car last week before going into the party) this time is decidedly different for some reason. somehow, without speaking about it, you both know this is going somewhere tonight. you’ve fought it for so long, and san has held back for so long, that if you don’t stop soon the floodgates will open and there will be no going back. when san’s hands move from rubbing the bare skin around your hips to dipping below the waistband of your pants, you know those gates are going to come crashing down any second now. 

“tell me to stop,” san says breathlessly, barely pulling away from you. you muffle a “what?” into his mouth and he tries again. “if you don’t want this, say so right now. because i need you so bad, y/n. i’m ready if you are.” 

“i am, yeah,” you reply, just as breathless. you pull away so you can meet his gaze when you speak so san knows you mean it. “i want you, san. i’m scared to admit how badly i want you, but i do. i just want you to be careful with me.”

“oh baby, i’ll treat you better than anyone else ever has,” he says, his eyes glistening in the dim light. despite being fully indoors, his gaze reminds you of the way the bonfire would reflect in his eyes as you fell for him week after week. it took you long enough but you’re able to see things clearly now: you’re falling for san, and that might not be a bad thing. 

“then show me,” you challenge him, and he smirks before connecting your lips again. he carefully pulls your pants down and gives your hips a reassuring squeeze before he runs his fingertips ever so lightly over the outline of your panties. his touch moves back up your body, sliding your shirt up with his hands. he helps you take your shirt off, smiling brightly when you lay back down and your hair cascades around you in a halo. 

“i haven’t said this enough, but you are so beautiful,” he whispers, and suddenly you feel shy under his gaze. you try to turn away but he grips your chin lightly and gives you a quick kiss. “don’t try to hide from me, baby.”

“ok,” you whisper back, but the way he’s looking at you still is so..serious. like there’s more he wants to say but he’s not, so you tug on his shirt to keep going. he gets the hint and slides it over his head, and your hands fly to his chest and trace the muscles there. “hey, you’re not too bad yourself, choir boy.”

“oh come on, choir boy?” he laughs. 

“what? you don’t like it?” you pout, and he chuckles again.

“there’s just so many better things to call me, love.”

“hmm, like what, sir?” you tease, and san quirks an eyebrow at you. “oh you’re joking. eat shit, choi, i’m not calling you sir.”

“not tonight, but some other time maybe?” he asks, and he doesn’t give you time to reply before his hand dips back down to your panties. he starts tracing the fabric where it meets your skin again and asks politely, “can i?” before pulling them to the side to trace your folds instead. he groans at how wet you are, and your hips buck involuntarily at his touch. “you’re so wet, baby, you sure you didn’t like calling me sir?” 

“just touch me, please,” you beg, and he nods. 

“in a minute. trying to appreciate you first. never seen such a pretty pussy, baby.”

the way san focuses on your core, his fingers tracing up and down to spread your wetness around, it has you breathless and he’s barely done anything. you whine and lift your hips, signaling you want more, and san gets the hint. he slides your panties down your legs, and then lays down on his stomach, breath hitting your parted lips. you shiver, and he latches his thumb on your clit, sending a jolt from your core up your spine. he rubs slow circles there while his other hand spreads you open enough for him to dip his tongue in your entrance, and you let out your first moan. it’s louder than you meant to be, because you are still in a semi-public place, but san won’t have that.

“need you louder than that, y/n,” he warns. “want everyone to hear how good i make you feel.” and he dips back down, thumb still rubbing your clit, but the way san is teasing your cunt with his tongue has you needier than you’d like to be. the sight of him between your legs is enough to get you flustered, but the expert way he’s dipping his tongue in and then running it through your folds has your legs quivering already. when he brings a finger down to join his tongue at your entrance, you jolt and let out a little scream, which he shows his appreciation for with a groan. a certain flick of his finger inside you brings you closer to the edge, and you tug on his hair to get his attention.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, words slurred by your cunt that he hasn’t fully pulled away from yet.

“stop, san,” you beg, and he pauses immediately, head looking up to meet your eyes. “don’t wanna come yet. i wanna make you feel good.”

“jesus, baby, you scared me,” he said, crawling back over you. “thought i did something wrong.”

“well your technique could be improved,” you tease, and san slaps your pussy in response, pulling a mix between a moan and a yelp from your lips.

“hey, i was doing some of my best work down there,” he said. “guess you’ll just have to teach me how to get better, yeah?”

“stop talking,” you tell him, feeling your arousal dripping from you at the thought of doing this again with him. “want you on the bed.”

“anything for you,” he says with too much fondness in his voice, and you can’t meet his eyes as you switch places. you’re straddling his lap, hovering just above the tent in his jeans, hoping you don’t ruin his pants with how wet you are. your awkward pause has san nervous again, so he checks in. “what are you thinking about?”

“i wanna suck you off,” you reply, pouting. “can i take your pants off?”

“god, yes, please,” he replies, squeezing your hips for assurance again. “i’m all yours, baby.”

you shimmy down far enough to undo his jeans, and you look back up to san before you pull them down. he nods again, brushing hair out of your face as you place one gentle kiss to the bulge in front of you, and he whines. actually whines. 

“baby, please, i said you could take them off,” he says breathlessly, and you laugh at how easy it is to rile him up. you get a hold of his pants and boxers and pull them both down, his length bouncing up at its release. you hate to admit it, but you’ve never seen a more beautiful cock. it’s like everything about san was carefully crafted by a god, and you’re just lucky to be the one who gets to appreciate it. 

you pull his pants down a little more and then wrap your hand around his base, squeezing slightly to tease him, and he bucks into your fist with a groan. you kiss his tip next, giving it a few light touches before glancing up to san’s face, and you feel your pussy clench at the way he’s staring at you with his lip between his teeth and his hooded eyes. he’s trying his best to be quiet, which isn’t fair, because he wanted you to be loud, so why does he get to be quiet? you switch quickly from kissing his tip to swallowing as much as you can take, ripping a moan from deep within san’s chest. you swallow around him once, twice, before pulling all the way off with a deep breath. you suck on the tip, twisting your hand around the base, before you go down on him again, bobbing up and down quickly to keep san’s needy grunts coming. he pulls you from your focus though, grabbing you on both sides of your face to push you away gently. you start to protest, but he cuts you off quickly.

“i’m gonna come, wanna fuck you now,” he says in one breath. “can you pull my pants back up?”

“what?” you laugh. “how’s that gonna help us fuck?” 

“need a condom, babe,” he replies, and you fall silent.

“sorry for laughing.”

“it’s ok,” he says as you rummage around in his pockets for his wallet. you hand it to him and he finds a foil packet, which he passes back to you. “to make up for it you gotta put it on.”

“yes sir,” you grumble, and now it’s san’s turn to laugh. you tear the packet open and successfully roll it over his rock hard length, but you spit on it a few times to get it wet, and san swears he could bust at that alone, but what comes out of your mouth next has him at a loss for words. “can i ride you?”

“mhm,” san nods, and he looks fucked out already just at the thought. he watches, entranced, as you climb on top of his lap and line his cock up at your entrance. he keeps his eyes locked on your movements as you sink down, and you let out the most beautiful moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you. the way you’re clenching around him should be a sin, and the way he’s stretching you and making you feel so full is unfair because you know you’ll never find anyone else who fits you like he does. you sit still for another beat, and while you’re still, san reaches up to unclasp your bra, watching with stars in his eyes as it falls down your arms. you toss it aside and lean forward to place your hands on san’s chest, holding his gaze as you slide back up his cock and lower yourself down slowly. you do this a few times, taking the time to try to read the expression in san’s eyes. you’ve seen it once before, and you know that it’s love. it may be unspoken, but it’s there, and the realization has you clenching at the thought. 

“you feel so good san,” you tell him, reaching up to tweak one of your nipples as you start to bounce on his cock. he knocks your hand away and watches you for a moment before his hands are on your chest, massaging your tits in the most delicious way. you gasp when he pinches your nipples, and you buck against him in a way that grinds your clit against him, and the slight pressure brings you back to the edge. “i’m so close, love. just a little more.” san gets the hint and moves one hand down to rub your clit again, his mouth open in a silent moan as you tighten around him. you keep bouncing, trying to reach your high, and the gasp that san lets out tells you he’s just come, so he frantically rubs your clit to get you there too. 

“come on baby,” he says. “show me how pretty you are when you come. let me see you lose yourself in this, in us.” and you’re over the edge, moaning his name as he bucks into you to help ride your high. you slow down on top of him, and he pulls you down to lay on his chest, his cock softening inside you as he buries his head in your neck. “good girl, did so good for me. i lo-um, uh...you did good baby.” you take a few moments to catch your breath before you speak.

“san,” you say seriously, balancing your chin on his chest as you look up. “are we gonna unpack any of that?” 

“any of what?” he asks with a smile. “i had a great time.”

“i know you did,” you groan. 

“didn’t you?” he asks, a little disappointment evident in his voice. 

“yeah, i did-”

“then there’s nothing to unpack, baby,” he says, gently shoving your head back onto his chest. “just rest for a minute and then i’ll get us cleaned up.”

-

the following sunday, you find yourself at church, alone again. no family this week, but you’re in your usual pew and san is in the choir loft. he smiles at you when he sees you, and you tentatively smile back. you’ve come to church today to break things off with him, so you’re not exactly in a smiling mood. 

it’s nothing against him. he’s great. he’s too great, actually. you’re just too scared to get into something that will hurt you again, and after the way san looked at you and the way he treated you with so much care and love...you feel yourself going to a place you don’t need to be in. you try not to look at him much throughout the service, because you don’t want to play his little games. and you also know that he could give you a single look and break all your resolve in a second. 

immediately after the sermon, you sneak out to the lobby, hoping to find san before the next service starts. you see the purple robes coming out of the sanctuary and take a deep breath. but one of the sweet choir ladies interrupts your thoughts.

“oh, y/n, are you the young lady sannie has been talking about lately?” she asks. “he was telling us last week he started seeing one of the girls from the congregation, i just never thought it’d be you! oh dear i’m so thrilled. you make that boy very happy, you know?” 

“i know,” you smile with a nod. “thank you ma’am.” 

“what was that about?” san asks, walking up just as the lady leaves. 

“uh, she was just asking me how my mom is,” you lie, smiling to san. “good singing today, choir boy.”

“why’d you leave the service early?” he asks, looking at you like he knows there’s more you want to say but won’t. 

“i gotta leave soon, meeting friends for lunch?” you say, and he nods. “and i thought we’d get our weekly scheduled flirting out of the way before i go.”

“well i gotta say you’ve caught me on an off day, sweets,” he says. “don’t have much to say on my end. except thank you.”

“for what?”

“for the other night,” he smiles kindly. “it was nice.”

“yeah,” you nod, lips tight. “shame you don’t wanna flirt with me though.”

“maybe i’ll think of something good and call you later?” he offers, and you nod again.

“hm, yeah, maybe,” you say. then, awkwardly, you tell him you have to go, and he nods back. you walk away, leaving san...confused? that was weird, right? you were off somehow. san didn’t have much time to read into it though because the service finally let out, and the sound of church members drowns out his thoughts. he just goes back to the choir room, contemplating what might be wrong and worrying the whole time that he’s gonna lose you before you’re even fully his to lose. 

-

that week, you text san and tell him you can’t come to bible study on thursday. his response is normal enough, if not a little formal for him, but you don’t read much into it. you just go about your week, and when thursday night rolls around, you’ve completely forgotten about bible study. and then you hear a knock at your door. you check the time and immediately know it must be san, maybe he just forgot you said you weren’t coming? so you groan to yourself and crack the door open just slightly to see a tired san standing on the other side of the door. 

“hey, i’m not going tonight, remember? i’ve gotta clean before my family visits tomorrow,” you tell him, and he nods.

“yeah, i remember,” he replies simply. “i uh, i wanted to know if we could talk?”

“about?” you ask, and he smiles shyly at you.

“i think it’s time for us to unpack some things, baby.”

“san, please, not tonight,” you start, and he just shakes his head.

“no can do, sweets,” he says, holding something up. “i brought your favorite, so you at least have to let me in so we can share.”

“from that greek place?” you ask, and he nods with a smile. you step aside and let him in, and he heads to the kitchen.

“want me to make your plate?” he asks, setting everything on the counter.

“sure,” you nod. “use what’s in the dishwasher. should be clean.”

“ok,” he says simply, and he gets to work serving dinner. he eventually brings over two plates, joining you on the couch. “this one’s yours.”

you eat in silence for a few minutes, you making your little greek tacos like normal and san stealing your chicken every other bite. it’s comfortable even though the situation is awkward, and you don’t want to ruin the nice moment. but you owe it to san to at least explain why you’ve been acting off, so here goes nothing.

“so,” you begin.

“so.”

“i know i’ve kinda blown you off the past few days,” you say, and san hums in agreement. “i just...don’t think it was good for me, spending so much time with you, so soon. and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you that i needed space.”

“that’s alright,” san says, holding your gaze before he leans forward to take another bite from your plate. “and i should have told you sooner that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

“oh i could tell.”

“really?” san laughs. “and i thought i was doing so well. guess i didn’t hide my feelings as much as i thought.”

“no you didn’t, sweetcheeks,” you say, and he smiles at the nickname. “flirting with me so much made it pretty clear. and you always get this sappy look in your eyes when you look at me, so. i knew it was coming. i just don’t think i’m ready for something like that right now.”

“and why is that?” san asks. he’s staring at you with that look you were just talking about, which is distracting, so it takes a second for you to reply. 

“i just...feel like you’re looking for something more than i can give,” you explain. “i don’t want anything permanent right now.”

“who said i wanted something permanent? i just want you.”

“and that’s the problem,” you whine. “i like you san, i really do. but i’m not. i don’t think i can get into something with you without one of us getting hurt. because you’re wonderful, really. i love spending time with you, and i’m attracted to you more than i can admit, so it’s hard for me to be around you and not want something more than flirty comments or a fuck here and there.”

“then let’s just take it slow,” he says, grabbing your hand. “like you always wanted from the beginning. let’s start dating, but super casual. no expectations, just whatever feels right. and whenever you need space, just tell me, ok?” he squeezes your hand and you mutter out a shy “ok” in response. “but i need to warn you about something, sweets.”

“and what is that?” you ask, stomach dropping at the thought of something bad.

“unfortunately,” he sighs, “i’m only going to get more wonderful.”

“oh shut up,” you laugh, nudging his shoulder. “be serious.”

“i am, baby!”

“well, baby, why don’t you start being wonderful and help me put away the clean dishes?” 

“only if you keep calling me that instead of choir boy.”

“we’ll see how it goes,” you tease, and he pecks your lips before he stands and takes your plates. 

“so are you gonna tell me where everything goes, or?”

[pengujoon]

what is it like to love someone?

geto was never really someone who would ever consider himself to be capable of loving. not to say he never tried, but he simply… couldn’t; he never had the chance to. he loved his bestfriend, the obnoxious white haired beanstalk, his close friend, the overly mature and tired 2nd year student, but never had he ever fell in love with anyone romantically.

but ever since you came crashing into his life, literally - you fell from the second floor window onto him who stood by the pavement right below the window, and thankfully he realised it soon enough to be able to catch you and soften the landing with the aid of his curses - his life changed. his once monotonous world with bits and pieces of blue blossomed into a world full of colours, blinding yet captivating.

maybe, to love someone is to love them during their most chaotic moments. he thought back on the days where the both of you just dressed in pyjamas onesies and went your whole day like that, not giving a single bother to the stares and looks from outsiders to your seemingly outrageous outfits. seeing the look on their faces made you and geto burst into laughter, the day becoming one of the many core memories you both share.

maybe, to love someone is to be with them even at their worst. he remembered when you lost your job, tears staining your cheeks as you stumbled through the front door, makeup smudged and shoulders slumped with defeat. in that moment, geto’s heart ached at the sight of your pain, and he knew he couldn’t let you face it alone. he held you close, offering silent comfort and unwavering support, because to love someone is to be their refuge in moments of despair, a steady presence in the midst of life’s storms. in those darkest moments, his unwavering love became a lifeline, a testament to the strength of your connection.

maybe, to love someone is to surprise them with your own love. geto remembered the time you knocked on his door at 3 in the morning just to pull him out for a late night drive, bringing him to the place you went for your first date - the hilltop behind your high school, overlooking the whole of tokyo. there laid a tiny little tent, small enough to fit only two sleeping bags, big enough to fit the both of you. geto really never had so much fun pointing out stars and constellations he never knew existed even if he light pollution made it harder than you had expected to see them. even when rain suddenly poured from the otherwise clear sky, you never had so much fun rolling around in the tent playfighting with each other, and the way he had to hold his laughter in as you almost pushed the tent over as you fell had him dying inside. 

maybe, to love someone is to imagine living the rest of your life with them. the realisation happened when he was out with gojo and shoko, and they got to the topic of settling down in the future. it was bound to happen - they were already adults, they had to. the thought of having you by his side for the rest of his life made his heart flutter - to be able to be with you, to get stand by the end of the aisle as you walk down towards him,  to get the chance to love you till the end of time - he never longed for something that badly before.

geto noticed you outside as you waved at him through the windows, a big smile planted on your face as you held onto the grocery bags on your other hand tightly. geto, you mouthed, come out! 

geto, with a smile on his face, bid farewell to shoko and gojo who sat right before him, slumped down against the table mumbling something along the lines of why you gotta leave so early before receiving a smack on the head from shoko - one which geto was grateful for. he smiled and waved at them before leaving the cafe as you stood outside by the door, hands raising to show him the bag of noodles you got and - are those 5 bags of family sized doritos?

“i got us some soba noodles for tonight! we could stay home and watch some movies after and get some cuddles, how about that?”

yeah, geto thought, this is what it's like to love someone.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

this is soooooo insanely self indulgent but for fic prompts could u write something where bucky is so attracted to buck’s brain to the point where it’s literally a turn on but buck is used to people not caring (his shitty parents) so he doesn’t really get it

The biggest trick any unit has to learn is what to do with downtime. There's things to do in Boise, but it's important to not just let the boys loose every day and night they aren't training.

Lectures are semi-popular. Buck offers up a few on science. High-school level stuff explaining physics and chemistry. Things a lot of the boys already know a little about and want to know more.

Bucky slips into the back of the room for one of them, standing against the wall because there's no free space to sit. It makes him smile. Buck's whole face lights up when he figures out a good topic for a lecture, and Bucky's glad to see how many seem to like them.

Buck steps up to the lectern and grins at the boys. "Who wants to figure out the best order to lose all four engines and survive?" he asks.

"Can we figure it out the other way, too?" Hambone asks, which makes everyone laugh, even Buck.

"Sure," he says. "But I'll let anyone who doesn't want that knowledge cut out before we talk about it."

Bucky chuckles as Buck turns towards the chalkboard and someone sends a paper airplane through the air, hitting Buck in the back.

"Douglass, that's five demerits," Buck says.

There's a few moments of tussling around Douglass as his friends give him grief, but they all go quiet when Buck turns to face the room again and says, "Okay, let's talk gravity."

Bucky follows the lecture easily. He and Buck have had these conversations before, Buck breaking down the science when Bucky can't follow, making sure he can explain it back to him before he picks up again. It means he can relax and simply watch Buck.

Buck's got the room's attention, his deep voice carrying easily, and the loose-limbed way he moves keeping everyone's attention. He walks the boys through equations and illustrations, drawing a full layout of the fuel line hosing from memory to help the discussion about how gravity and mass and velocity all wrap together to affect which engine has the best chance of running the longest even if the fuel pressure drops.

Bucky shifts his hat, moving it from under his arm to hold in both hands in front of his belt to hide the fact that his dick is half-hard. Buck's face is bright and relaxed as he answers a question about the equation. Bucky watches the pilot who asked the question nod along as he makes sense of Buck's answer.

He's so goddamn smart, Buck is. It makes Bucky feel like his insides are sparking when it's on display like this. Buck knows so much and explains it all so well. He's so open with what he knows and never tires at questions or confusion. Watching him be happy to share makes Bucky want to cut the lecture short so he can kiss him silly, taste the chalk dust that's settled on him, and tell him how amazing he is.

The lecture ends, and the room empties out. Bucky stays put, nodding to a few of the boys who say hello. Buck stays up at the front of the room, looking at the chalkboard like he's appreciating his own work.

"Another sold out show," Bucky says once they're alone.

Buck turns and ducks his head. "I think I'm the only show on today."

"That's not true, and you know it," Bucky replies, pushing off the wall and walking slowly up the center aisle to Buck. "You had them eating out of your hand, like always."

"It's just about finding the right way to explain it," Buck says. "That's not hard."

Bucky stops close enough to Buck that their buttons brush together. "You are so goddamn smart it makes me crazy," he says. "You know all this stuff, and you can explain it, and you can figure out how to make it interesting for anyone."

Buck slips a hand over Bucky's hip and shifts so he can slip a leg between Bucky's. "Did I get you riled up again, Major?"

"You rile me up every fucking second," Bucky says, cupping the side of Buck's neck. "But, yeah, watching you work that big brain in front of a crowd really gets me going."

Buck huffs a laugh and brushes his mouth against Bucky's. Bucky tastes the chalk dust and bites his lip so he doesn't moan. "Only you," he says, and it's deeply affectionate.

"Come on," Bucky says, tilting his head to one side. "Let me suck you off while you rattle off geometry proofs."

Buck snorts and shoves at Bucky, but then he reels him right back in and kisses him properly, a slow, steady movement of their mouths matched with an easy glide of their tongues. "I may be the brains of the operation, but you're the romantic," he says.

Bucky laughs and rocks against Bucky's thigh, sighing when Bucky shifts so there's more pressure on his cock. "Come on," he says, "Let's go find a spot to fuck my brains out."

"Only yours?" Buck asks.

Bucky shivers at the challenge in Buck's tone. "I'll never manage, but I will wear myself out trying."

Buck grins at him and takes one step back, grabbing Bucky's hand and pulling him along. "An equal amount of pressure on both sides," he says. "That's physics."

"Uh-huh," Bucky replies. "Keep talking dirty."

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for telling people I don’t work here?

Ok so it’s Saturday morning and I (28M) don’t have a lot on my mind, besides like maybe lunch, I’m a little hungover so I go to the supermarket really to just get out of the house. Then suddenly this woman approaches way to fast and her eyes are intense And she spits on me a little as she asks, “where do you keep the pasta?” and I’m confused but I try to be polite so I say, “I dunno aisle 3?” And then she demands get it for her! I just stand there for a moment because I was just trying to get a Gatorade and I don’t want to deal with this, but then she rolls her eyes and I kind of lose it. 

So I tell her, “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not sell you shit!” And then I say, ”Maybe should work here so I can hide all the things you want from you!” and, “If I did work here do you think I’d be wearing a dirty white singlet? Ya fool!” Then I noticed the pasta was there the whole fucking time so I tell her, “Silly me I’ve had the pasta all along. Fuck you” and she starts crying. 

So now it’s the afternoon and I’m not going to lie, I feel really great about making a middle age woman cry today. So I’m taking a walk on the hot sand on the beach and decide to take a rest in the shade of the lifeguard tower (and my foresight readies me for melee) so then this man runs up from the surf way to fast, with a bluebottle across his chest he shakes me as he asks “you’ve got to save my kid!” But I can’t swim, so I tell him that, and he gets all upset and goes “what kind of a kid guard are you then?” And I’m tired and just wanted to take a nap but he rolls his eyes so I kind of snap.

And I tell him “Hey! I don’t work here but if I did I would not save your kid!” And then I tell him “maybe I should work here that way I could help relieve that nasty sting for you” and I tell him “do you think a life guard would make a race car out of sand then fall asleep?” And then I get a bit sidetracked thinking about how I should probably get a job and I guess I’m mumbling because the guy asks if I was thinking about saving his son and I tell him no and he says “What about my son, he's drowning?!” Then I look over his shoulder and see that no he isn’t and I tell him "Your son's fine, he just swims weird, and you shouldn't hold that against him.” And the guy turns around to check and I take that as my moment to get out of there.

So it’s night now and I’m not thinking about much just kicking a ball down the street then I give it to much juice and it flies over the fence of my local NASA compound (just bear with me) I climb over the fence to get it when I realize the guards are all passed out and it seems there’s been a planed attack. The alarms are blaring but I’m the only one in tact. I try to phone for help but something must be blocking it. And they’re an alien transmitting itself to NASA screens specifically. And the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I’m trying to figure out way to do or find any one who can actually handle this and I tell the aliens but it just repeats “Give us ya planet” and I try to get someone to answer me and tell them we’re under attack and again the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I try to tell it that I don’t have the authority to do that but it just won’t listen. I just came to get my ball but it’s been a long day so I’ll speak for all of humanity. 

(Also I didn’t know this at the time but apparently this had worldwide news coverage)

So I tell the alien “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not surrender shit!” And I tell it “maybe I should work here that way I could take a trip to mars and strangle you!” And I ask “Do you think the president of Earth has a fucking mullet?” And at this point I’m just letting out all the anger from the day and I tell it  “maybe I should work here that way I could put my planetary fist in you, I could teach your kid to drown in front of you, and I could hide all of the linguini from you!” 

Then the alien fucked right off and also I’m the president of earth now. So AITA